


Just Another Street Rat

by Creativeguy39



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Humor, I'm considering smut, Literary References & Allusions, Philosophy, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon AU, Politics, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-08-02 05:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16299068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creativeguy39/pseuds/Creativeguy39
Summary: Corruption runs deep in the Pokemon city of Greyhaven. And it's about time someone did something about it.





	1. The City

I’ve… seen some interesting things.

I’m not saying by any means that what I’ve seen would shatter your paradigm. I would never make so bold and untrue a claim. But I have no doubt in my mind that what I’ve seen is among the more crazy events that have taken place in this world. Such ambiguous words do call for a story, however, would you not agree?

I was a passenger on a ship called the _Black Pearl_. I believe she was a fine vessel, but having seen very few ships up-close before this, I had little to compare her to. You might also find it odd that a Water-Type such as myself booked passage on a ship, rather than just swam. My species is not suited for the distance that I had to travel, however, and the sooner I got to my destination, the better. My boss became quite flustered when I brought up these two points with him, giving him no choice but to pay for my passage.

You see, I was on my way to an amazing place. A place where there was no crime. A place where technology was so advanced that electricity had been harnessed to make life more convenient than ever. A place where even non-Water-Types were able to summon clean water within their homes at will! Its name was Greyhaven, and it was located at perhaps the most isolated place in the known world, on the west coast of a barren mega-island in the middle of the Gyara sea. It was a week-long trip there by boat, if the wind was in your favour. Due to this, cargo being transported to or from Greyhaven was almost always done by Charizard, Dragonite, and the like.

The reason for my trek was solely for business. My employer wished to establish a trading relation with Greyhaven’s government. After I accomplished that, I was to serve as a permanent ambassador of sorts, between my employer and Greyhaven’s authorities. This was mostly because my employer believed that there was a fortune to be made off of reselling their technology, and while I was dubious about the morality this belief, I simply could not turn down the opportunity to see, and better, to live in, this fabled place.

I was up on the deck enjoying the misty air at the start of the morning Union Hour, which is to say when both the sun and moon were in the sky. I’ve always been an early riser. It was then that I noticed the call of wild Wingull. My Water-Type instinct told me that meant we were close to land. Turning away from the stern, which is where I was, I dashed over to the bow of the ship, leaning over the edge, peering into the fog before us. I quickly noticed lights, glowing faintly and mysteriously. Unlike fire, the source of light I was used to during Lunala’s hours, these didn’t flicker or dance. They were still and solid, as if the Pokémon of Greyhaven had been able to freeze fire and cut it into cubes to put on top of wooden poles. It would not be until later that I noticed that the poles were, in fact, made of metal.

One of the crew members rang the bell to alert both the passengers and the Pokémon on the docks that we were coming up to our destination. My heart racing in excitement, I hurried below decks to my cabin to retrieve the few things I had brought with me: a necklace my mother gave me, the documents regarding the purpose of my stay at Greyhaven, and a single blanket I gifted to myself in celebration of this journey. I put the necklace on for the simplicity it had over carrying it, draped the blanket over myself, and headed up to enter the city.

I was one of the last off the plank, in front of only an Audino couple with a quietly snoozing infant. There was a Quagsire in a blue uniform at the foot of the plank on the dock, holding a clipboard in front of him and stopping passengers as they came off for their names, assumedly so that he could check it off of a list he was holding. When my turn came, he paused for a few seconds before speaking.

“You don’t need to tell me. Current, right? You’re the Vaporeon I was told to expect, who has business with the government.”

I confirmed his belief. He nodded.

“I’ll need to see your embassy form, then, if you don’t mind.”

I took the papers out of my mouth and leafed through them, shortly before realizing that I forgot which one was the embassy form. After two minutes, I noticed that one of them had ‘embassy form’ on the bottom in very small writing. I handed it to him, and he looked it over for about ten seconds before handing it back to me.

“Looks like you’re good. Enjoy your time here, hmmm?”

I thanked him and bid him a good day before starting down the dock towards the streets. Given the time, it was quiet and mostly barren. The fog didn’t let up within the streets any more than it did at sea, so I wasn’t able to make out the buildings around me very well. After roaming around near the docks a little, I found one of many maps of the city posted around for newcomers, which would prove to be my best of friends for the next few months. According to it, I was in the Bacinate district, one of the largest ones geographically, by the look of it. I recalled hearing that my residence was in the Lumiose district, and was happy to learn that the Lumiose district directly bordered the Bacinate district. I grabbed the sheet that had my new address on it, found that street on the map, and planned my route there before departing.

The city’s name wasn’t meaningless. It was certainly grey. The street wasn’t dirt or gravel as I was used to, but some sort of dark grey rock. I had no idea what the buildings were made out of, although they were also grey. The sky above me was invisible, hidden within the mist.

I arrived at my street after about an hour’s walk. On the wall of a building nearby there was a poster for a show of some sort, that depicted a Sylveon winking playfully. A part of me wanted to approach it and read what it had to say, but my better judgement told me not to get ahead of myself and to find my residence. It didn’t take long to find it. Number 553. As I had been instructed, I climbed up the front step, pulled the plain, unlocked door open, and stepped inside to be greeted by a small, minimalistic apartment.

Some exploration of my new home revealed nothing particularly unusual, minus an odd smell coming from the living room window and a secret passage in the bedroom that led to the roof. Okay, so maybe the last one was pretty unusual. But nonetheless, I didn’t dislike the house. Not in the least.

There was a knock on the door. I quickly stopped my gawking at the kitchen tap and went over to answer it. I was greeted by a Zweilous, who welcomed me to the city and handed me an envelope with a funny-looking grey stamp on it. I thanked him for his kindness, closed the door, and went over to the couch to open the letter up.

 

_Dear Current,_

_On behalf of all of Greyhaven, we welcome you to the greatest place in the known world! We hope you will quickly come to see yourself as one of us and frequent some of our many social gatherings, and make many friends and acquaintances along the way._

_Regarding your business here, we currently cannot spare anyone to negotiate with you, as we are going through some rough waves, if you will, and need all hands on deck. Rest assured, we will arrange for a meeting with you to discuss our future of trading together within a week._

_Sincerely,_

_The Greyhaven Governing Council (GGC)_

 

At the time, I didn’t see through the facade. I was excited and thought I would have a good time with everyone else living there. This fault of mine was soon to be remedied.


	2. University

You will find, as our story continues, that it is a habit of mine to enjoy long, leisurely walks in random directions. Kindly do not judge, they help me to clear my mind. Regardless, a few days after my arrival, I was wandering around the Castelia district, the northeasternmost and one of the most spacious districts within the city.

It was the first district I had seen that had a fairly high amount of trees, grass, and other greenery within it. Its streets, unlike the other districts’, which I learned were made of tar, consisted of an aesthetically pleasing cobblestone. Rather than having tall apartment buildings lining the sides of the roads like the other districts, Castelia also had mansions dotted around the green fields, many of which behind gates, fences, and the like.

I was passing by a particularly large mansion, exalting the beauty of my surroundings, when I heard a door being pulled open. I glanced in the direction the noise came from briefly, only to do a double take at the breathtaking Espeon standing in the doorway of the previously mentioned mansion I was passing. She was facing away from me back within the mansion, and I could hear an older male’s voice shouting from within. She called back to whatever it had said.

“I’m leaving, Father, because I’m going to be late for class!”

More shouts. He didn’t sound happy.

“Father, your wishes are irrelevant. I have told you that many times now. Farewell.”

She moved to close the door, but stopped at more shouting from her father. She seemed to roll her eyes, though I couldn’t say for sure at the distance I was at. When he went silent again, she responded.

“We are both fully aware of the falseness of those words. You have not helped me become what I am now. Rather, I became what I am now _despite your_ _interference_. With that said, as I have already stated: your wishes are irrelevant, and farewell.”

Without another word, she slammed the door behind her and trotted down the path to the mansion up to the street, making eye contact with me for a split second and dipping her head at me quickly before continuing to her destination, which I could only guess was a school of some sort. She seemed rather old for school, however. Around my age, and I was an adult. Slightly dumbfounded by what I had just witnessed, I shook myself and returned to my business, which is to say, doing absolutely nothing.

 

\---- 

 

A matter of hours later, I was surfing the Mulay district, which was a smaller district by space, and was directly to the south of the easternmost part of Castelia. I happened to be in an apparel shop, looking at some particularly fashionable sunglasses, as I had learned they were called, although I had no intentions of buying anything. As I observed, I noticed a familiar lilac face gazing at the same sunglasses I was. I turned my head fully to make absolutely certain it was her, and it was. What a coincidence. It was the same Espeon from before!

Her head rotated to gaze upon me directly after I did so to her. “You… you would be that Vaporeon from before, would you not? The one who saw the little kerfuffle I had with my father?”

I established that I was, in fact, the Vaporeon that had seen the little kerfuffle she had with her father. Her already wide eyes widened even further in realization.

“Greetings. My name is Rachael. My deepest apologies for your having to have experienced that. I realized I was going to be late for class, so I left very abruptly, and he didn’t notice I was leaving until I opened the door, much to my dismay.”

I blinked twice before responding because of how fast she was talking. Despite that, she was able to keep a formal, polite, and non-condescending tone. I first introduced myself, then assured her no harm had been done, then decided to take a risk and inquire as to what the fight had been about, although I already had a few guesses. Luckily, she was willing to talk about the matter.

“Oh, it’s a disagreement that has led to some long-term bitterness. My father stubbornly opposes my attending university for a degree in the Sciences. His wish is for me to take over running the bank he owns when he dies, which won’t be for a while yet, anyway. I have never liked the idea of a career in the corporate sector.”

I asked what her mother had to say on the topic, and the sudden change in her expression made me realize I had hit a nerve, prompting me to immediately start stuttering an apology before she interjected.

“No, no, it’s alright.” Her voice was now distant, almost forlorn. “She… wasn’t the greatest of individuals, anyways.”

Silence took over as we tore our respective sets of eyes away from one another and resumed browsing. Eventually, she asked if I was new to the city, and I confirmed that I was. She inquired further, and so I told her the reason behind my stay here. I must say that she didn’t seem to like the fact that I was here on behalf of a merchant. Nonetheless, however, when I made to leave the store she offered to join me, reasoning that I no doubt knew no one, and she would feel bad if she were to leave me alone. In reality, I don’t mind solitude in the least, but the same applies for my feelings towards having companions, so I accepted. We went southwest to the Jinko district, just south of Lumiose, my home district, as according to her the best cafés and emporiums were located there. I made a mental note to remember to return there should I ever feel like browsing again.

After several hours of store-hopping, I learned quite a lot about my newfound friend, if I do say so myself. Her reason for being present at the Mulay district was because that was where all Greyhaven’s universities were located. In fact, she informed me that Mulay translated to the word ‘brain’, in Upper Lanakilan. You learn something new every day.

Even aside from her knowledge of foreign languages, Rachael was not a mind to be taken lightly. At one point during our jaunt, she pulled me into a children’s toy store simply to show me an electronic action figure of ‘Super-Raticate’, which, according to her, had an extremely advanced device within it known as... now let my try to get this right. A phytostabilized hydofile. She proudly announced, “I helped in its development. In fact, if we were to disassemble the toy and remove the piece within it, we would be able to see a number of names engraved upon it, my own included.” Despite the, er, nerdy way she presented her accomplishment to me, I was marginally impressed.

Finally, as the sun was nearing the beginning stages of its transition into evening, we found ourselves at a café called the “Melting Pearl Lounge”. Rachael made an unimpressed remark about it not _technically_ being a lounge, but that didn’t seem to make her any less enthusiastic about the prospect of food. After we sat down (she had _insisted_ upon paying, by-the-by, given her family’s income), the topic of conversation once again became her father.

“I simply fail to understand his narrow-mindedness.” she started. I was sipping on some white tea, already used to her energetic rants. “And until only a short time ago, I failed even to recognize it. ‘He’s my father, he could never oppose something as noble as the Sciences,’ I thought. It was not until he met with one of my professors and _ordered_ her to _fail_ me that the wool was pulled from my eyes. Of course, she did not fail me. Or, at least, she wouldn’t have. My father was too ignorant to realize that the professors do not mark our final assignments, to prevent bias.”

I asked her whether he was being ignorant or if he was simply uninformed. After all, he had most likely not attended university, and would not know of its systems. But she shook her head.

“No, I mentioned it to him many times. I simply found the idea interestingly clever when I first learned of it. And as you have no doubt already learned, I tend to vent about whatever so happens to be on my mind.”

I asked her if she liked university, as a whole. She sighed as she thought of how to respond.

“Not altogether, though I do like it more than I dislike it. Nothing makes me happier than learning, and most of the professors share my standpoint, though many of the other students do not. For example, at the start of my freshman year, I had payed for a room on-campus. Bear in mind, I paid, not my father. And within three months I was back to living with him!”

I asked her to elaborate. Her tail twitched behind her in an agitated manner, probably due to relived memories.

“Allow me to word it this way: living with your father, who wants to make you drop out of university, but is, more often than not, too polite to attempt to make you do so, is challenging, but definitely not impossible if you’re up to the task. On the other hand, living in close proximity with a multitude of young males who want to engage in… in, _coitus_ with you, and are not too polite to attempt to do so, _is_ impossible.”

Now I understood. I nodded in empathy and apologized for what she had suffered. She waved her tail at me dismissively, however.

“Please, do not attempt to apologize for them. I said they attempted to do so, not that they ever succeeded. And I would never group you with them in a million years. You are far more polite and respectful than they could ever hope to be.” She paused before continuing. “And I have met others like you before. Such as the Preacher. I must introduce you to him, sometime, I have come to the estimation that you two would get along.”

I thanked her for her kind words. After we finished our food, she explained that she should be heading back to the Castelia district, as her father would be expecting her home soon, and her professors had given her an above-average amount of homework. I bid her farewell and waved to her as she departed, before having it dawn upon me that I had no idea who the Preacher was.


	3. Rendezvous

The day after my encounter with Rachael, I found myself within the Insign district, one of the westernmost districts. It was west of the Bacinate district, where I first entered the city, and like Bacinate, was on the coast. Unlike it, however, it was only a fraction of its size, both in terms of population and area, and had no actual docks. It appeared to be mostly residential, albeit less desirable than what was offered in the Lumiose district, and a mile off from the housing available in Castelia.

The GGC had finally sent me a letter highlighting the details of our fated meeting. It advised to stand out front of a post office within the Inisign district, and to wait for their envoy. I was to expect them around the tenth hour of the morning. So far, from what I could tell, it was nearly ten minutes past the tenth hour. They had said ‘around’, however, so I was inclined to wait a little longer before becoming impatient.

As I whistled a tune my mum taught me when I was younger than I can remember, I suddenly felt a great impact in my flank and a massive discharge of electricity in rapid succession. I don’t know how far I flew, but it was a great distance. I laid still, in shock, with the occasional twitch of a muscle. Dazed, yet somehow conscious, I used Wish in an attempt to permit myself to stand on my four feet again. As I waited for the delayed regenerative move to take effect, I heard an alarmed, male voice that was coming towards me.

“Sorry! Didn’t see you there! I was running so fast it must have manifested into Wild Charge!”

I became able to stand, albeit shakily, as I felt Wish beginning to take effect. I covered myself in an Aqua Ring to do the rest as I turned to the apologizing Pokémon that I now recognized as a Jolteon.

“Are you hurt, sir? How many paws do you see?” He held up a forepaw as he said this with a worried look on his face.

I reassured him that no harm had been done. When his expression didn’t change, I told him I saw only one paw. He sighed in relief.

“Thank Arceus, you’re alright. Severely injuring a passerby would make my conscience shriek at me for weeks.” He held out his previously lifted paw. “Tom. A pleasure. Both meeting you and knowing you’re alright.”

I introduced myself to him as I took his paw and shook it firmly. His maw opened in surprise.

“ _You’re_ the ambassador I’m supposed to be meeting up with. Well, this has been an embarrassingly poor first impression, I apologize for my, er, informal attitude. I’m a member of the GGC.”

The first thought that went through my mind upon hearing this was that he didn’t look anything like a politician. His fur was quite ruffled in many parts, and that’s not including his backside, which naturally sticks on end anyways. He also lacked the formal, or as I’ve heard others word it, condescending, look within his eye that was to be expected from a member of a government. Had I been made to guess his career, I would have assumed skilled labour, or maybe even unskilled labour, but not a leader of a city-state.

“And, yes, I realize that I don’t look much the part.” Ah, so he was aware of this fact. I was glad I didn’t vocalize my opinion, then. “I usually do a better job of combing, but I was up last night doing mundane paperwork, and must have slept through my six o’clock alarm.”

I told him it wasn’t his fault and that no one is perfect, given he seemed quite embarrassed by it. That seemed to calm him down a little.

“Thank you. For me to fully comply with the conditions the Council makes me work under, I _would_ have to be perfect. Now, let us begin. You have your papers, I imagine?”

I told him I did, then went and grabbed them from a couple of metres away from us, strewn in the street. They were still clean. We departed from the rendezvous point, me following him, as he lead us to what I assumed would be where the discussion would take place.

We eventually took a seat within some sort of lounge. On the other side of the room there was some sort of green table that a group of three Pokémon were using sticks to push balls around. Just behind it was a bar. On second thought, that was probably what this place was. A bar. It was quite barren of customers, given the time of day, which is no doubt why Tom chose it to host the meeting. We sat down across from each other at a booth, and he cleared his throat.

“Now, then. On to business. My superiors do not see any reason not to initiate this relation, as it will mutually benefi-”

“Excuse me? Hi!” We both turned in surprise at the sudden voice, which was a Flareon now standing at the booth, holding a pen and a notebook in his forepaws. Tom gave an annoyed grunt.

“And who might you be?”

“I’m very sorry to interrupt your little conference, but my name is Frere, and I’m here representing the newspaper known as _the Dayspring Courier_.”

Tom put his paw to his chin, in an attempt to recall the paper’s name, by my guess. My hypothesis was confirmed when he shook his head and said, “Never heard of it. Is that a paper from where he’s from? Because there’s laws against outside press in Greyhaven.”

The Flareon, or Frere, as I should call him, shook his head. “No, sir. _The Dayspring Courier_ is pretty small, so not very many Pokémon know about it. Our headquarters is in the Centrico district.”

The Jolteon looked rather vexed at Frere’s counter to his attempt to shoo him off. “And why might you be here?” he asked in a falsely polite tone.

“Our informants caught wind of the meeting between the GGC and the new Vaporeon ambassador taking place here, and I was sent to learn more about it.” he stated very matter-of-factly. “What I hadn’t expected was that none of the bigger papers supposedly heard about it! They must be focusing on bigger matters, like the new healthcare legislation.”

The spark that appeared in Tom’s eye at the mention of ‘new healthcare legislation’ wasn’t a pleasant one. It was the kind of spark that appeared in a soldier’s eye when you said ‘near-death experience’. Oddly, Frere was entirely unaware of the politician’s attitude towards him.

“My point being, would it be alright if I, like, sat in on this? And took notes? _The Courier_ will want to publish an article on it, especially if none of the other papers are.”

“No, I don-” Before Tom could finish his sentence, I cut in and told Frere that neither of us had a problem with it. His face didn’t tell me he was very happy with my intervention, but he nodded in agreement, albeit begrudgingly.

Smiling and oblivious to the silent argument that had just taken place, the Flareon trotted over to a nearby table and pulled a chair from it over to our booth.

“Okay! Any time you want to start, then!”

Tom’s eyes shot to the journalist in an annoyed manner before turning back to face me. “So, then, Mr. Current. Might I hear your proposed terms?”

I handed him the sheet that listed the terms for the trading partnership made by my employer. He took them from my paw without a word and read over them with neutral eyes. He looked back up at me.

“This is all completely fine with us, save for one thing.”

I had anticipated this. I prompted him to continue.

“Section 13: ‘Granting the right to resell any of one another’s copyrighted products to any customer at any price.’ That’s not going to work.”

I told him I was well aware of this, but had been ordered to present the terms as they were, regardless. We were both slightly distracted by the scribbling sounds originating from right beside us. Regardless, he nodded in understanding.

“I see. So idiotic leadership is something both of us are familiar with. _Don’t_ include that.” The last sentence was directed at Frere in a sharp voice. He sheepishly started erasing something as Tom turned back to me. “If you could relay our objection back to your employer, and convince them to repeal that section, we’ll be set.”

“Excuse me, could you repeat that?”

Tom turned to the Flareon. “I beg your pardon?”

“Could you repeat what you said back there? I didn’t quite catch it, and I would like to quote it in the article.”

The Electric-Type was losing his patience with the Fire-Type, fast. “And why, of all the things I have said so far, would you want to use that quote?”

He shrugged unsentimentally. “Gut feeling, I guess.”

His eyes were firing not only daggers, but every kind of sharp object in existence, at Frere. “I said, ‘if you could relay our objection back to your employer, and convince them to repeal that section, we’ll be set.’”

He finished his scribbling along with Tom’s words. He must have had experience with writing quickly. “Thank you!”

I told Tom that last part was easier said than done. He chuckled lightly.

“I think I know that better than you do.” This time he was careful to make sure his statement didn’t directly reference the GGC’s leaders.

“So… are we done here already, then?” Tom and myself turned once again to the pencil-clutching Flareon.

I told him that yes, we were, and made a remark about how surprisingly short it had been. Though Frere smirked at the joke, he sounded dismayed by the brevity of the event.

“Oh… alright, then. Guess I’ll head back over to Centrico.”

“Hold on, there.” Heh. It appeared the Flareon’s sudden loss of enthusiasm had inspired compassion within Tom. “I was going to stick with Mr. Current for a while, since we’re going to be business partners and all from here on out. Why don’t you join us?”

The sparkling, optimistic ardor lit up in Frere’s eyes once again. “Really? I mean, you’re a politician and businessman, respectively, and I’m just some low-as-dirt reporter. Would you let me spend time with you?"

I found his immature attitude amusing, and judging by the chuckle that came from Tom, I could guess that he had a similar opinion. “Classes can kiss my quills. C’mon. That’s an order.”

And so, we got up from our seats and vacated the bar. In hindsight, it was rather rude to enter and exit without purchasing anything, but I can’t change the past, now, can I? Upon entering the outdoors, we heard Tom’s name get called, and we turned to see a Beedrill passing by.

“Hey, Tom. How are your fool’s errands going?”

If what Tom had shown to Frere had been vexation, it wasn’t anything compared to the expression he was wearing now. “I am no fool. What I do, I do only to secure a better tomorrow.”

The Beedrill guffawed. “Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that, and one day you might actually believe it. Anyway, Parliament’s being held at the Union Hour. Be there.” For those of you who don’t know our terminology, Union Hour is the hour of sunrise and of sunset, when both Solgaleo and Lunala’s light washes over the world. It’s considered a holy hour, usually one spent relaxing, meditating, or in the case of Pokémon like me, taking long, slow walks. In other words, it wasn’t the most respectful hour to hold Parliament, and Tom voiced this.

“Really!? I’m due to meet the Preacher around then! And no doubt numerous other GGC Councillors have plans for then, as well! Might I advise-”

“Since when did _you_ have say?” the Beedrill interjected. “Regardless, I just came to tell you that. I’ll be bidding you and your cronies farewell, for now. And as for the Preacher, this whole city’s better off without that old nut.” He flew back where he came from without another word. Tom huffed.

“Cronies, huh? The High Council’s one to talk, three quarters of them don’t have any qualifications whatsoever. And yet there they are, higher in the pecking order than I am.” He slapped a smile back on his face as he turned back to face us. “Well, then. Allow me to apologize for that with a meal out. There’s this really good restaurant I know…”

The rest of my time with them that day, although enjoyable, was irrelevant to our story. That morning, I met two more lifelong friends, and gained some insight on the actual nature of the GGC. Remember when I said ‘this fault of mine was soon to be remedied’? This was the start of that process.


	4. Enforcement

I wrote a letter to my employer summarizing the outcome of the meeting later that afternoon, then went to the Bacinate district and had a Pelipper deliver it. This left me with nothing to do, so I took another directionless stroll around the city, hoping to run into some new and interesting places. Boy, was I in for a treat.

My aimless travels soon led me to a smaller, southeastern district known as the Brole district. It was a rather small district in all senses, and was dimly lit, given that it was just past Union Hour. However, it did have one thing that caught my eye. A massive building, dead in its centre, that appeared to be a stadium. When I approached it, I could see a steady stream of Pokémon entering the building, each giving a few coins to the Roserade standing guard. Curious, I entered the line. It was moving quickly, so I grabbed some coins from my pouch before I was even halfway to the Roserade. I reached her after two minutes of standing in line.

“It’ll be eight Greycoins, sugar.”

It dawned on me that the money I had with me was currency from my home region, and that there would no doubt be an exchange rate. I held up one of them and asked her how much it was worth. Upon recognizing it, her eyes lit up.

“Oh, sugar, one of those is ‘bout fifty! That could get you a balcony seat! You interested, hun?” Her being easily double my age was not making it any easier to resist gagging at the suggestive nicknames. Nonetheless, I maintained a polite mannerism and told her that yes, I was interested. She happily took the coin out of my hand.

“Enjoy the show, sweetie!”

I actually _did_ gag after getting out of earshot from her, hoping she was already facing the next customer so that she wouldn’t see. Within the building, a Haxorus standing at the door most of the guests were going through gestured to a staircase on the left and told me I that was where my balcony seat was. I thanked him, made my way up the stairs, and came out on, not surprisingly, a balcony. It was one of five in a large, circular stadium with no roof of any kind. There were large fluorescent lights (note that I didn’t learn they were called that until much later) shining down on the centre of the stadium, which was a fenced-in circular arena of sorts, with a fifteen metre diameter if I had to guess, with a sand floor, as compared to the rest of the floor, which was concrete. The balconies themselves consisted of black marble, by the look of it. Down below, surrounding the sandy stadium, there were countless seats, lower to the ground up front, and higher up the further they got from the middle. They were interrupted only by two straight aisles, opposite each other, each leading from one end of the arena in the middle to an exit. These aisles currently contained a few Pokémon headed towards vacant seats. Stragglers, if I had to guess.

All of the balconies had Pokémon in them, except for one that was directly above the ground exit on my right. This changed when the Haxorus from before appeared there, with what I later learned was called a microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please find yourselves seats and make the aisles clear.” After about thirty seconds, his wish had been fulfilled. “Thank you. The name’s Randal, and welcome, all, to tonight’s one-on-one single brawl!”

There were roars from the audience. Thank goodness. I had been starting to fear that I had just payed to watch females pole dancing, or something of a similar nature. I had to be more careful about where I went. As the cheers died down, Randal continued.

“Thank you, everyone, thank you. Now, as you all are already aware, we like to keep the identities of our contestants top-secret until moments before they make their appearance in the rink, even to each other. And boy, oh boy, are you people lucky to-night!”

Drums began rolling as a spotlight directed itself to the exit on my left. “On the West Aisle, we have someone notoriously bad-tempered and vicious, whose virtuous heart has also developed him a different reputation with his occasional pounding of criminals. It’s the Fighting-Type we all know and love who was named champion of our last Full Moon Tournament, a mere week ago! Everyone, please welcome, the Masked Throh!”

Applause and cheers filled the stands as a Throh burst through the door the spotlight was focused on. Upon his face, as his name suggested, was a plain mask with eye holes and a mouth hole, coloured haphazardly with every colour of the rainbow. He was already flexing and showing off intimidating poses to appease the audience, especially emphasizing a small, purple orb within his hand. After he had substantially shown off, he strutted down the aisle and climbed over the fence into the rink, ready for battle. Randal asked for the audience to quiet down, and once they did, the spotlight moved over to the exit on my right.

“And, our second contestant, coming up on the East Aisle. We’ve all seen him, but barely! This Dark-Type has the best record of any Stadium regular, with, as of tonight, one-hundred fifteen wins and eleven losses! His strategies are out of the mainstream and catch even seasoned battlers like myself off-guard, which I _swear_ is the only reason I lost to him! Grudges aside, everyone please welcome Dusk!”

The cheering, whistling, and clapping that was taking place now was tenfold the volume of what the Masked Throh had received, forcing me to cover my ears and bend over from the shock. When I was able to look again, there was an Umbreon standing in the spotlight casually. He was saluting and waving to particular individuals in the crowd, supposedly those he knew personally. At one point he blew a kiss to a cheering Florges, causing her to pass out.

It was quite the spectacle.

The Umbreon trotted down the aisle and into the rink in a similar manner to how the Masked Throh had done. Once he was in the rink, he waved politely to his opponent, who returned the gesture. It seemed this would not be a spiteful battle, but a friendly clash of skill. There was also a third Pokémon in the arena. A Granbull to be exact, acting as a referee. It no doubt was chosen for its type advantage against both the contestants, in a situation of things becoming uncontrollable.

“Attention, audience. We would like your silence for the countdown. Contestants, please bow.”

The Throh and Umbreon did as they were told.

“Now, the battle begins in… three. Two! One! GO!”

Dusk immediately darted to his left, dodging the Focus Blast that had already come from his foe. He kicked up sand with his forelegs, cleverly aiming so that it got into his opponent’s eye holes. I recognized the move as Sand Attack. So that’s what Randal had meant by ‘out of the mainstream’.

The Masked Throh attempted to use Work Up, so as to increase his damaging potential, but was thwarted by a Taunt from his foe, followed by another Sand Attack. Frustrated, he attacked with a Brick Break, but missed due to the sand in his eyes. Dusk then unexpectedly came charging at the foe, opting to use what was unmistakably Tackle. This strategy was very peculiar and out of the ordinary, in stark contrast to the Masked Throh’s brute force tactics. He landed the hit, knocking the Throh over, leaving him open to more blows. Without leaving another scratch on him, however, he got up and trotted calmly over to the other side of the battlefield, following up with a defensive stance. The Masked Throh got up, bewildered and confused. He saw his foe standing perfectly still, red eyes on him, making him wary. He approached the Dark-Type, slowly at first, then charged and picked him up, before tossing him across the arena, making him slam against the other fence. The audience gasped. It was the move Vital Throw, recognizable because its user had taken the time to perfect their aim before attacking.

Dusk got back up, looking mostly unhurt. Umbreon was the only evolution of Eevee that were sturdier than Vaporeon, after all, so this was the sort of resilience I had imagined it was capable of. I saw him close his eyes. Most of the audience probably didn’t know what he was doing, but I recognized that he was using Wish. I know the move myself, after all. The Masked Throh was closing the distance between them again, going for some more close-range damage, but missed another Brick Break. As Dusk jumped away from the attack, the audience could also hear him growl cutely at his foe, thanks to what I guessed was the acoustic design of the colosseum. This confused the Masked Throh, no doubt since he didn’t understand what tactical advantage that move gave him. I remember my dad telling me how useful the move Growl could be against foes that preferred physical attacks. It messed with them psychologically, made them less wary. Using it repeatedly could render their attacks near-useless. Again, an out of the ordinary tactic. I still didn’t see how it was going to win him the battle, however. He wasn’t getting himself anywhere as long as he wasn’t damaging his foe.

The Masked Throh turned to face his foe again, when suddenly he fell to one knee. Given Dusk wasn’t asking if he was alright or anything of a similar nature, I guessed he was behind this. Or perhaps missing Brick Break numerous times takes its toll on such a brute-force style Pokémon. Regardless, he stood back up and continued battling, ignoring whatever was ailing him. He took a crack at another Brick Break and actually landed the blow this time, sending his foe back multiple metres. He lay there for numerous seconds. It must have been a critical hit. The audience were holding their breaths.

Then, a star shot across the battlefield, right over Dusk, and he promptly stood back up. His Wish had come true, and he was now recovered. I saw the yellow rings on his body glow slightly brighter than they had before as his breathing became less laboured. This healing move, I was unfamiliar with. It didn’t appear to be delayed like Wish was.

Dusk’s opponent, meanwhile, wasn’t faring nearly as well. He was quite exhausted, holding onto the fence for support. Dusk looked to be staring at the Masked Throh, though I was too far away to see any intent in his eyes that may or may not have been there. The Masked Throh looked up and saw him doing this, then charged at him with an enraged roar, hitting him hard with a Superpower. The ultra-powerful Fighting-Type attack sent the Dark-Type careening backwards, though amazingly he landed on his feet, albeit shakily. When he steadied himself, he looked back up at the panting Throh before him. His eyes began glowing a bright blue as his foe was hit relentlessly by an invisible force. Even an amateur battler could recognize Psychic, a great move for Umbreon to protect itself against Fighting-Types. The ranged attack had drained the Masked Throh of any more energy, and he collapsed to the floor with a thud.

“DUUUUUUSK WIIIIIIIIINS!” Randal shouted. Perhaps he had been rooting for the Umbreon, so that way he wouldn’t look as bad by comparison. The applause and cheers that exceeded what an Exploud with a megaphone was capable of had returned. “That was an intense match! Dusk has done it again, keeping up his straight record of taking down all of his foes in less than five hits, with only two this time! That sums up this match, everyone! See you tomorrow night!”

I saw Dusk approach his defeated opponent, who was in the beginning stages of standing back up, and whisper something into his ear. The Masked Throh looked astonished at whatever he had been told, and said something else inaudible back, to which Dusk nodded. The Masked Throh said something else, and they hugged in a friendly way before parting back out of their respective exits. With how quickly everyone was leaving, I decided I should, as well, before I became the last one still in his seat.

A half hour later, I found myself wandering the Rosidod district, another small district just to the north of Brole. I found a bench that I thought I would sit in when I heard a voice call.

“Hey! You!”

I turned at the noise, assuming it was referring to me, given there was no one else here. That was when I noticed a familiar Umbreon trotting towards me, smile on his face.

I asked him if I could help him.

“You bet you can! You broke one of my many streaks!” His voice was falsely urgent and threatening, with a nonchalant undertone that matched his relaxed posture. “For _two years_ , I’ve been able to recognize every single Pokémon in the audience every time I’ve battled in that colosseum. And then you just mosey on in there with your unfamiliar face and end that! Two years of hard work, down the drain thanks to you and your big ideas!”

I apologized for the trauma and embarrassment I had made him go through, grinning throughout the entirety of the not-at-all sincere speech. Seeing that I could see through his act, Dusk broke it.

“All jokes aside, though, I was honestly surprised to see a fresh face in that place. In Greyhaven, it’s either you frequent that colosseum, or you don’t go at all. There’s no one who just goes occasionally, for whatever reason, and that makes it pretty easy for a semi-observant fellow to be able to recall all of the spectators after a couple months.”

I explained that I was new to Greyhaven, and had been there for only almost a week. His rings shone slightly brighter when I said this.

“Oh-ho! Not just a newcomer to the colosseum, a newcomer in general! Folks who haven’t been here long tend to just stick to their home district. You’re quite the adventurous one. How come you’re here?”

And so, I explained my business there. He didn’t look very interested, but his ears perked up when I mentioned meeting with a Jolteon named Tom.

“Oh, Tom? I know him! Great guy! He and my boss are buddies. He deserves better than the lifestyle he currently has, though.

I nodded in agreement as I remembered the Electric-Type’s negative comments about the conditions he worked under. Noticing something Dusk had said, I asked him if by ‘his boss’, he meant Randal, since Randal did not sound like the type to be close with the likes of Tom. Dusk shook his head at my question.

“Nah, the arena’s just a downtime thing. Out of respect for those who _do_ do it as a job, though, I never accept the victory prize.”

I asked him how much the victory prize was.

“Oh, one thousand Greycoins for a one-on-one single like tonight. Each battler pays five hundred to participate. In a free-for-all match, since each contestant pays five hundred, the victory prize would be a lot more. But, I would feel bad if I accepted it, since I have another income and these guys don’t. After tonight’s battle, for example, I told the Masked Throh to take the victory prize. He’ll need it, too, he lives in a slum in the Vertueux district.”

That was kind of him, I thought. I asked him what his profession was.

“I’m a detective. The aforementioned boss is the chief of my branch, named Clorge. He’s a Drapion, and a cool guy.” He saw a clock on a street light behind me, and his smile weakened. “Actually, speaking of my branch, I gotta be heading over to the Imperium district right about now. But can I meet ya by the bar you and Tom met at tomorrow morning, at nine? I wouldn’t mind giving you a tour of our station.”

I told him I would greatly enjoy such a thing. We exchanged our farewells and parted, him at a much faster pace. I weaved my way through the streets back to my residence in Lumiose, where sleep came for me.

 

\----

 

Punctual as I am, the next morning I was at the bar in Insign I had been at less than twenty-four hours beforehand at 8:45 in the morning. I sat on a bench not far from it and passed the time humming and whistling different tunes I was familiar with. By 9:10, I was starting to wonder what was holding Dusk up. He arrived around 9:20, and looked as if he had ran a good distance.

“Yo! Thought I could squeeze in a couple laps around the perimeter of the military training grounds. I thought wrong.”

I told him that there was no problem, and explained that being only twenty minutes late was acceptable for a rendezvous as inconsequential as this.

“Thanks, man. I know people who would already be furiously listing reasons why me being late is unacceptable. Now, shall we be heading off to Imperium?”

I agreed, and we began the walk. I didn’t know where the Imperium district was, but he was taking me north, so I could guess it was near the northwestern corner of Greyhaven. As we trekked, it occured to me to ask him exactly how he had defeated a Pokémon with a type advantage against him with two hits, one of which being Tackle. An impish smile grew on his face when I asked.

“Black magic. I conjured the Lord Giratina just before battle to grant me unholy strength in return for my enemy’s blood. Part of why I had to leave last night was because I had to ‘finish what I had started’, if you know what I mean.”

He could have made the sarcasm in his voice undetectable, but chose not to. I asked again.

“Alright, fine. I didn’t use Tackle. That move was Toxic. You’ve probably heard of it, eh?”

Of course. Toxic. How could I have been so foolish? The move that slowly damages your foe over a period of time through a powerful poison, leaving them unconscious in a matter of minutes. After that, it gets fought off by the immune system, though the victim will not recover quickly without assistance.

“Yeah, I thought you’d know that move. He played right into my hand, too. That purple ball he was holding is called a Life Orb. It increases the power of his attacks, at the cost of a bit of energy each time he lands a hit. That stacked on my Toxic made it so that he had a very short time to defeat me. And the Psychic I used at the end finished him off because I had used Laser Focus just beforehand, guaranteeing me a critical hit.” There was a gleeful look in his irises. I could tell he liked sharing his strategies. “My go-to strategy consists of Screech and Foul Play, but that wasn’t going to work against a Fighting-Type as bulky as Throh. Come to think of it, I probably should have used Charm instead of Sand Attack. That would have saved me a lot of trouble. And I was pretty weak after that critical hit, so Flail might also have been a good choice…”

The next five minutes consisted of him rethinking the battle and reviewing better strategies that he didn’t think of in the heat of the moment.

“Okay, so, concludingly, should I have used Charm, then Sand Attack, then Toxic, then Confuse Ray, then Wish, then Psychic, then my victory would have been guarant-”

“Dusky!”

The Umbreon next to me was now on the ground a few feet away with a small, brown, furry mass on top of him.

“Hey Lucy.” Dusk didn’t sound hurt by the surprise tackle, or even dazed or surprised. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“Nuh-uh! It’s Giradies! I don’t hafta go until tomorrow!”

“Fair enough. How about you get off me and I can take you and my friend here to the police station?”

The Eevee yipped her approval and got off of the Umbreon. Once he was back on all four, he gestured to get the attention of the youth jumping on the spot next to him. “Lucy, this is Current, a new friend of mine. Current, this is Lucy, my sister. My mum has her stay at my place every now and then.”

Lucy had stopped jumping and was now bobbing her head back and forth as if she were dancing. “Hi! Your tail looks funny. Kinda like a Wailord’s.” Her eyes widened. “Are you a baby Wailord!?”

I told her I was not, but that I was an evolved form of Eevee, just like her brother. Dusk then continued to lead us up closer to the northern end of the city.

We arrived after about a half hour at what I assumed was the Imperium district. The streets were wide and plain, and there was the occasional tree. In the distance was a massive stone structure, with what appeared to be pillars. I asked if that was the police station.

“Nah, that’s the parliament building. Also, the station I’m showing you is just the one that I work at: Branch 27.” He pointed to a plain building on the side of the road near us that had the number 27 above its door. He ushered us into the small lobby of the building, where an Arbok sat at the front desk.

“I take it these are the guests you said you were going to bring?” Her tone was friendly.

“Yup. The second, smaller one was unplanned, but here she is, nonetheless. The boss is cool with this, right?”

“Oh, yeah, he doesn’t have a problem with it. You can bring them through to the back.” She gestured with her tail to a blue door at one end of the room. We thanked her and headed through to a white and blue hallway with numerous doors. Dusk began walking down the hall and pointing to each door one by one.

“This is Officer Chow’s office, this is Officer Maybelle’s office, this is the lounge, this is Officer Jude’s office, this is my office, this is-”

The Umbreon suddenly bumped into a rather large, purple body.

“Ah! Chief! Sorry to be a bother, sir! Was just showing some Pokémon around, sir!”

The chief, a Drapion, as I recalled Dusk mentioning the night before, chuckled. His voice was deep and rough, as compared to Dusk’s usually suave tone.

“It’s quite alright, detective. You only made me spill half of my coffee.”

It was now that Dusk noticed the brown splash on the floor that the rest of us were already aware of. Lucy was giggling at her brother’s misfortune, and I was tempted to do so as well.

“Well, detective Dusk, I don’t have the time for this, as I have to go to the GGC to request the termination of some new legislation. A bill that will cut our budget by over fifty percent. Your orders are to clean this mess in my absence, and then to continue this little tour of yours.” Without another word, he continued at his previous brisk pace.

It was evident on Dusk’s face that he was not looking forward to the task ahead of him. “This was supposed to show how cool the police are…” I heard him mutter under his breath as he went to find the mop.


	5. Performance

About a week later, I found myself exploring the Nahpeet district, a medium-sized district just south of Castelia and due west of Mulay, the district where Rachael and I first talked. Its themes were apparent the instant I entered, since the street I came in on had at least seven different shops for musical instruments. As I continued through the area out of nothing but curiosity, [a melody became audible.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpH_CQPOV84) It was an unfamiliar one, and very off of the beat. The village I had grown up near had a municipal band, and one Smeargle flutist from that band occasionally gave me informal music theory lessons throughout my childhood, so I was somewhat familiar with the components of music, as well as the instruments. The reason why I bring this up is because I didn’t recognize this instrument’s sound. It reminded me of the clarinet, but at the same time it had similarities to a trumpet, as well as aspects that I simply didn’t recognize, aspects that I could only assume were unique to it.

It didn’t matter. In case you haven’t noticed yet, I often let curiosity get the better of me. Even if I had recognized this instrument, I wanted to find the song’s source. It was a nice song. It wouldn't take me long. I just had to go in the direction of the sound, and it seemed to be coming from less than a few blocks away.

Five minutes later, I came around a corner and found it: a Sylveon standing on the side of the street, playing some sort of gargantuan golden woodwind, with a Smeargle next to her providing piano accompaniment. She was putting her whole self into the song, swaying with every note and keeping her eyes closed to feel the sound. Something was vaguely familiar about her, but I couldn’t recall what.

I wound up leaning on a building a distance away from the duo on the other side of the street, quietly enjoying the music. When the song ended, and her blue eyes opened, she immediately looked right at me and gestured with one of her ribbons to come closer. I pointed at myself with an inquisitive look, just to check, and she nodded energetically. Not wanting to be rude, I obeyed and came closer.

“You aren’t from here, huh?” Again, I recognized something about her that I couldn’t pin down. I answered her, saying that I was not, in fact, from the city.

“I thought so! I could tell ‘cuz of the awed look in your eye! You must be so enamoured with this place!” She held out a paw enthusiastically. “I’m Vivace! But if you want to call me Viv, that’s fine too!”

I shook her paw and introduced myself. I then pointed at the massive instrument, which she was using her ribbons to support as it stood next to her, and asked her what it was, explaining that I had never seen it before.

“Oh, Mordecai here? Sorry, that’s what I named it. It’s a baritone saxophone! A type of saxophone! They’re only found here in Greyhaven! Baritone is the biggest kind! I started out on alto, the smallest kind, but I switched over ‘cuz I wanted to play low stuff!”

Of course. So many other things were only found in Greyhaven, such as electrically-powered homes and tar streets, so it only made sense that there was an instrument only found here as well. I asked her if other instruments were here as well. She nodded energetically.

“Yup! All the kinds that you find on the mainland! I don’t know much about them, though. I prefer acting to playing music.”

An actor, as well. Intrigued, I inquired further.

“Oh, well, I sometimes appear in plays done over at the Teatri district. It’s pretty fun. I play in orchestras and stuff sometimes, too, but I prefer the plays. I’m playing here as a sorta, uh, community service thing.”

I asked if she was involved in anything at the Teatri district right now. When I did, her eyes widened.

“OH! Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait! Gimme a second!” She hastily propped her saxophone up against the nearby wall as she reached for a small, pink purse also next to the wall. She dug through it with a feeler for a few seconds before producing a small piece of yellow paper from it, then slid the purse over her shoulder and handed the paper to me. “All the stage crew and actors and everyone else involved in a performance get one show ticket to give to someone else! For free! Everyone else I know has already seen me hundredza times, so I’m gonna give it to you, ‘kay?”

After taking a few seconds to interpret her lightning-fast speaking, I took the ticket, then quietly and politely asked if she was always this energetic. Her ears drooped slightly, but her smile remained.

“Oops. Sorry. A lot of folks think I’m a bit much, you see. I get excited when someone new sticks around for more than ten seconds.” Her ears perked back up again. “But… does that mean you’re coming?”

I told her I would be there.

“Yay! The show’s in a few hours, in the Teatri district, at the Grand Theatre of Greyhaven! It’s our first time performing it, and-”

She was about to say something else, when we both heard someone clear his throat. We turned to see the Smeargle that was accompanying her, now beside the piano.

“I take it we’re done here?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, Francis. That was going to be our last runthrough, anyway.”

 

The Grand Theatre of Greyhaven definitely had a different atmosphere than the colosseum down in the Brole district. For starters, there was a small string ensemble providing classy background music before the show. The walls were decadently ornate, even being jewel-encrusted in some places. The stage where the performance would be taking place was in the middle of the room, with the seats being arranged in a massive horseshoe shape around it. I found myself a spot at one of the very back rows, to the right side. In front of me was a brochure with the name of the play on it: _Begone_. I picked it up and opened it to the first page.

_Begone is a touching story of a beautiful princess who falls in love with another, far poorer female. With relatable characters, a deep and heart-wrenching plot, and a powerful message about inclusiveness, this performance is certain to pull at the heartstrings!_

For the first dramatic performance of this scale that I would ever see, it sounded very good. As a means of passing the time until the start of the performance, I flipped over to the page that had information on the cast. I was quite surprised when I found Vivace’s entry:

_Vivace, the well-known Sylveon actor, is playing the crew’s voted favourite role, Bibinni. Bibinni is a species-fluid, female part who’s low as dirt in society, and yet attracted the princess with her exceptionally funny personality. Vivace received her training, oddly enough, at BIA, which has gifted her with a knack for humour that has greatly benefited her career._

BIA. I would have to ask Vivace what that was when I got the chance. I guessed it was a stage training centre, perhaps one that specialized in comedy. I continued reading for a few minutes before the lights dimmed, frightening me slightly. I had never been in a theatre before. Was this supposed to mean something? As I asked this to myself, I noticed the rest of the audience quieting down and fixing their eyes on the still-empty stage. Ah. It meant that the show was about to start. Very well, then. I put the brochure to the side and payed attention.

Vivace walked out on stage, accompanied by a Machamp and Bellossom. None of them had any costume of any kind.

“Hi, everyone!” Vivace called. She projected her voice well enough that she didn’t need a microphone. “Um, I really don’t know how to put this. The performance has been… uhh…”

“Cancelled.” the Machamp finished for her. He said it very matter-of-factly. There were surprised noises from the audience, and a few jeers.

“Yes, yes, we know you’re upset.” the Bellossom said disappointedly. “We are, too. We were excited to show you this performance.”

“That’s why,” Vivace started again. “We’re going to give you all something just as good!”

The complains stopped. I swear I saw Vivace’s smile widen.

“Tell me,” she said impishly. “How many of you have ever seen an improv show?”

Less than a quarter of the audience raised their appendages. I definitely didn’t. I had never heard the term. The Machamp spoke up again.

“Well, just know that you’re in for a real treat, everyone.”

Vivace and the Machamp took places in the middle of the stage, while the Bellossom moved up to the front. She cleared her throat quietly before starting.

“Okay, then. For those of you who don’t know, improv acting, or improvised acting, if you want to sound technical, is all in the name. It’s acting without a script. Of course, there’s a bit structure to it than that, or else it would basically be impossible.” she clapped her hands together once. “So! We’re starting with an improv game known as ‘Scene Three Ways’. To start, I’ll need a profession for these two lovely actors here. Can someone give me a suggestion for a profession? Anything works.”

She took a volunteer Victreebel from the audience who had raised a vine. She exclaimed “workers in a cheese processing plant!”

“Very well, then! Vivace, Forte, you two now work in a cheese processing plant! Go!”

The two walked up next to one another. Vivace spoke first.

“Hey, John.” she offered in a nonchalant voice. “You ready for ten hours of nothing but processing cheese?”

“Oh, you bet I am!” he responded. “I’ve lined my living room wallpaper with cheese so that I’m almost always exposed to the smell, to make it more bearable!”

By now they had started pretending to work at some sort of assembly line. “HA! Well, I lined my whole HOUSE’s wallpaper with cheese, so that I don’t even notice the smell!” I didn’t know why, but I was smirking. It was oddly hilarious.

“Well, I lined my SHOES with cheese, so that I _always_ smell it, to the point that I pass out from shock when I smell something different!” I was starting to giggle now. Why was this funny?

Vivace stepped back multiple steps, a surprised look on her face. “Woah, you can afford shoes?”

The entirety of the audience was laughing now, myself included. The Bellossom addressed the audience again.

“Now, that’s our base scene. We’re now going to build on it. Can someone give me an emotion?”

A Gigalith suggested ‘melancholy’.

“Okay! Now, the same scene, you two, but make it more melancholic! Change the lines, if you must.”

They backed off from the centre of the stage and walked towards one another again, this time with their heads lowered and their posture defeated. Vivace sighed deeply.

“Hey, John. Are you ready for ten hours of nothing but intense, cheesy torture?”

The Machamp, Forte, sighed in a similar manner. “No… but something tells me I’m going to get it anyways. I tried lining my living room walls with cheese, to dull the suffering, but I don’t think it will work…”

“It won’t… I tried lining the walls of my whole house with cheese, and yet the plant still smells as cheesy as ever…” Their lamentations were even funnier than the last scene.

“I had to line my shoes with cheese to keep myself from dying from shock when I set foot into the factory… it only partly works…”

Vivace sighed again. “I wish I could afford shoes. But alas, ‘tis only a dream.”

The Bellossom stepped between the two to signal that the scene was over.

“That was lovely! Now, last but certainly not least, it’s time to make sure this game stays true to its name! Can anyone suggest a genre?”

A Ludicolo sitting close to me suggested Action. They restarted yet again. This time, they jumped into the middle of the stage and made ferocious poses.

“Hi-YAH! You ready for some cheese processing, John? Non-stop training designed to break the backs of the weak!?”

Forte cracked his knuckles. “You bet!” his voice was significantly lower and gruffer than normal. “I lined my armory with cheese so that I would get used to the smell!”

Vivace changed her pose. “HA! My whole house has been lined with cheese for MONTHS, to strengthen my nostrils past the point of no return!”

He guffawed as he began to flex. “Well I’ve lined my shoes with cheese, so that my nostrils will be the greatest of them all!” He suddenly received a kick to the jaw.

“Shoes are for the weak and faint of heart! Those who are truly strong GO BAREFOOT!”

The Bellossom once again ended the scene. “Thank you, Forte and Vivace! That was terrific! That concludes the game ‘Scene Three Ways’. Next, the three of us together will be doing a game called ‘Dinner Party’.

The following two hours consisted of a slew of games of a similar nature. This ‘Dinner Party’ turned out to be a game where the three of them were given a topic to discuss, but beforehand they had to secretly choose one other person to really like, and the other they absolutely despised. It led to some funny dynamics between characters. Some other games they played included Typewriter, in which one actor pretends to write a story and the other two act it out, Reverse Trivial Pursuit, in which the audience gave suggestions and the actors asked questions that the suggestions would be the answer to, Last Letter Scene, in which every line had to start with the last letter of the last line, and many more. I could keep going for ages. It was a terrific show. When Vivace announced that the night was finally over, there was huge applause from everyone, myself included.

“Thank you, everyone! Thank you!” she exclaimed. “You’ve been a lovely audience! Sorry again about not showing the actual play! But something tells me you’re not so disappointed about that anymore, huh?”

After they left the stage, the audience began filing out, and I followed suit. Figuring that Vivace would want to see me after the performance, I exited the building and stood beside its entrance, awaiting her. It was raining now, but given that I’m a Water-Type, I didn’t mind in the least.

After a half hour, she trudged out the decorated front entrance and towards me with frustration that starkly contrasted her previous happiness evident on her face.

“Oh my GAAAAWWWD. The stupid GGC had to go and ruin everything again!”

I asked her what she was referring to. I already had a hunch, and it turns out I was correct.

We got a notice _five minutes_ before we were gonna start, saying we couldn’t because _Begone_ was too ‘rebellious’ of a plot. What even makes a plot rebellious!?” She huffed angrily. “And having to deal with Forte isn’t helping, either!”

I allowed her to stand there for a few minutes until her rage quieted. The peaceful sound of the light, mist-like rain coming down around us helped, I imagine. When she appeared passive again, I asked her what exactly the Machamp was doing.

“Oh, he’s just really self-absorbed. He thinks he’s the best in the world at everything he does.” She began using her paw to play with a nearby puddle. “And to make matters worse, he’s into me. Like, no thank you. Not only would I rather another quadruped, a bit of humility is a prerequisite.”

Two questions went through my mind, one after the other. Did I fit those requirements, and if so, should I be scared? Vivace was a rather bold individual, after all, and I don’t know how I would feel about her…

Let us not continue that thought. It was irrelevant to the current conversation. I voiced that I found it odd that she disliked him, given that they made such a good team on stage. She turned her head to look at me.

“Oh, no, I don’t _dislike_ him, per se. He’s good at what he does, and working with him on stage is a blast, especially if it’s improvised. It’s just dealing with him offstage that’s annoying.” she pointed one of her ribbons at me. “And you really should remember that, ultimately, we’re acting on that stage. Nothing more. Sure, in improv, we use our imagination and sense of humour, but we’re not entirely ourselves, either. I wouldn’t kick someone in the jaw for wearing shoes.”

I snickered at the memory. She joined me. Then, her expression changed as she realized something.

“Hey! I should take you to the BIA! We’re having a meeting later tonight to discuss plans for the next few months! They’d love to meet you!”

I asked her what the BIA was.

“Oops. Silly me! It stands for the Bureau for Improv Acting. The Marowak that founded it, Lancer, is the guy who first came up with the idea for improv!”

This sounded interesting. I told her I would be there.

“Yay! I would take you there myself, but I gotta run over to the Preacher for a little talk! It shouldn’t take more than an hour, and the meeting’s in two hours! Head over to the Impoc district, just west of here, and ask anyone! They’ll know where the BIA is!”

I stopped her as she tried to run off, and asked her who this Preacher was. Nearly everyone I had met knew them, or at least knew of them. Her ears perked up when I asked.

“Oh! Right! I forgot you’re new here! The Preacher runs a chapel where he helps those in need and provides counselling to ya if you want it! He’s reallyreallyreally super friendly and nice and smart and cool, and I don’t wanna be late! Bye!” With that, she darted off at a surprising speed. Wasn’t Sylveon supposed to be the slowest evolution of Eevee?

Brushing that aside, I now had some insight as to who the Preacher was, if only a little. I should have asked Vivace to take me with her, so that I could meet him myself. No matter. If he was this well-connected, I would meet him later. For now, I had a destination. The BIA.

As I started on my way west, however, a voice calling behind me made me grind to a halt and turn. I beheld none other than Forte the Machamp.

“You.” he called again. His voice wasn’t threatening, but it wasn’t exactly friendly either. “You were chatting with Vivace, huh?”

I confirmed that I had been chatting with her.

“Did she… mention me at all?”

I confirmed that hunch, as well. He fist pumped with a victorious grunt.

“Ha-ha! I knew it! She just can’t stop thinking about me. She says she’s not interested, but she doesn’t realize how wrong she is. She doesn’t know any better.” as he said this, he hadn’t been looking at me. He now did so. “Listen up. You’re lucky she ever even glanced in your general direction. That girl is something else entirely. She’s got more talent than any other member of that pathetic stage crew.” he kissed one of his biceps. “And the only suitable match for talent is an even higher amount of talent. So, don’t try anything. The fate of our relationship is sealed. She just doesn’t know it yet.” With that he walked up northwest, towards the Nahpeet district, where I first met Vivace. I wondered if he was going there to try to find her.

I agreed with him entirely that the fate of their relationship was sealed. But it wasn’t Vivace that didn’t realize it. It was him.

 

\----

 

Vivace had been right. The first Pokémon I asked for directions, a Marshtomp, told me exactly where the BIA was. I had to say, though, the Impoc district looked so similar to Teatri that I wouldn’t have noticed I had entered it, had I not been anticipating it. I entered the unremarkable building, which was connected to all the others along the street. I did so warily, given that there was no sign out front and that I might have been at the wrong address.

My worries were vanquished at the sight of a huge blue banner that said ‘Bureau for Improv Acting’ in white letters. I appeared to be in some form of waiting room, with a front desk that had a Cofagrigus at it. I trotted up to the desk, hoping to learn where this meeting would be taking place.

“May I help you?” The Ghost-Type’s voice identified it as a female. It looked into me with kind eyes. Never before did I think a Cofagrigus could have kind eyes. I cleared my throat and explained that I was new to Greyhaven, and that a member of the Bureau had invited me to the meeting taking place tonight.

“Mm! We don’t usually go around letting newcomers in on these, but since you’re new, and someone invited you, no one should have a problem with it. Who, might I ask, invited you?”

Vivace, I told her. She looked surprised at my answer.

“Really? Vivace never invites anyone to these things. I’ll ask her about you when she comes in, okay?”

I nodded, and she told me the meeting would be taking place in the room furthest down Hall E on the left side. I thanked her and ventured through the seemingly maze-like interior. In the first hall, which branched off into halls A through F, there was a number of shelves on the wall that had different portraits of Pokémon on them, each with a different name accompanying it. All of them were either smiling, making a silly face, or doing an odd pose, such as a handstand. I recognized the Cofagrigus’ photo, with the caption ‘Emma’, depicting her standing on her head. This place definitely didn’t prevent its workers from showing a bit of personality. I found Vivace’s picture, too, which depicted her mid-jump, with an excited smile on her face and her eyes closed. I would say that accurately summed up her personality, yes. It wasn’t until later that I would learn that these were, in fact, photographs, and not just the terrifyingly realistic paintings Smeargle are so good at producing. Another wonder of technology found only within Greyhaven.

I went down the hall labelled Hall E and opened the unlocked door into the room I had been instructed to enter. Within, some sort of bluish-grey Pokémon with a massive X on its face sat at a long, narrow meeting table. It saw me and smiled.

“Hi! I don’t recognize you.”

I introduced myself and explained why I was there. They seemed genuinely surprised.

“Wow, that’s, like, super odd. Vivace never invites people to these!” They got up from the chair they was in and walked towards me. “I’m Carlos, by the way. Pleasure to meet you.”

I shook their three-clawed hand, which felt metallic, and asked what their species was. I didn’t recognize it at all.

“I get that a lot, heh-heh. My species is pretty rare, after all. I’m a Metagross.”

I jumped back from shock slightly, despite attempting not to. It only made them laugh, however, signalling that they weren’t offended. Wow. A Metagross. Campfire stories would have you believe that they were serious, cunning, calculating and intimidating, and absolutely not the way this one were acting. And one would never expect to find such a Pokémon at an improv organization, of everything!

“Makes sense that you're new. Most of the Pokémon from Greyhaven at least know _of_ me.” he gestured to a nearby chair. “Please, sit down. Vivace hates being late, she’ll be here any minute now.”

Almost the second I sat down, Vivace burst into the room, out of breath. “Did… I… *phew*, miss much?” She was holding onto the doorway with a ribbon for support.

“Err, no. You’re early, as per usual. Your friend Current made it, by the way.” Carlos gestured to me as they talked.

Her expression immediately went from tired to happy. “You made it! Great! I was worrying you might get lost, since you might forget what I told you about asking around and then you’d be really scared and alone because you’re new here and don’t know the place and then I’d be really guilty because I was the one that sent you here and-”

“Vivace!” the Steel-Type in the room interrupted. “You were speaking so quickly even I couldn’t understand you. And I can understand that Manectric from across the road, so that’s saying something.”

Vivace giggled embarrassedly, then took a seat next to me without another word. More and more Pokémon trickled into the room, including a Gengar, a Boldore, a Ribombee (named Steve), and a Krookodile. The Krookodile sat at the far end of the desk rather than on one of the sides, signalling to me that it must be the leader of this group.

“A’ight,” he started. “S’up peeps. ‘Day we gun be coverin’ next month.”

The rest of the group chimed in with their agreement. He then swivelled his head so that his dark eyes were looking straight at me.

“An’ ‘oo might you be, feller?”

“He’s with me!” Vivace explained happily. “He’s new to the city, so I thought maybe he would want to meetcha!”

“Oh-ho, looks like we goddourselves a newbie, ladies and lads! Tell meh, howd’ya like Greyhav’n, so far?”

Deciding to give my honest opinion, I said that while it was definitely fascinating, it had it flaws, like any other place.

“Ya couldn’t be more right, fren. Anywhoosies, lezz discuss da Donphan in da room, Light Day. We ain’t doin’ nuttin’ on da actual day, ‘course, bu’ I thought durin’ the week maybe we could set up some sorta improv night fer da folks ‘oo done deir shoppin’ early-like an’ got nuttin’ ta do. Probl’m is, I ain’t got no ideas fer themes.”

Carlos spoke up. “Perhaps an improv game kinda like ‘A Call From Ray’, only instead of a call from Ray it would be someone receiving a gift.”

The Krookodile liked the idea. “Dis’s why I got y’all on da team, Carlos. You got dem big brains to do dem big ideas good-like. Ol’ Festus approves lots-like.” That was his name, then. Festus.

“Thank you, sir.” Carlos bowed slightly, which was difficult for a Metagross that was sitting down.

Festus twiddled his thumbs as silence prevailed. “Well, den, I fought dat wou’be a bit longer.”

“Yeah, that’s what Carlos thought after having that conversation with Vivace trying to convince her to ask that guy out!” the Gengar in the room jokingly said. Numerous voices joined in agreement, turning Vivace’s face the colour of a Magmortar’s shoulder. Carlos intervened.

“Guys, that was, like, five months ago, and she said no. Just drop it. The joke’s getting old, and it’s evident that she doesn’t like it.”

The laughter and teasing continued uninterrupted. From what I could tell, they weren’t trying to be unkind. Despite this, the Sylveon next to me looked as though she was on the brink of tears. Festus put a hand up to tell Carlos they’d done enough, before taking in a huge swallow of air.

“DO I GOTTA GIT NOISY WIF Y’ALL!? ‘CUZ AIN’T NO ONE LIKE OL' FESTUS WHEN 'E GITS NOISY!!”

The room fell silent. “Sorry,” one voice uttered. Festus cleared his throat.

“Fanks, y’all. Yer dismissidied, o’ whuevva ya call it ‘ese days. Git lost, is whu I’m sayin’.”

They all began filing out, including Carlos. Vivace stayed in her seat, however, so I stayed in mine. When the others had vacated the room, she turned to Festus.

“Thanks for that, Festy. I can’t stand it when they do that.

“Bah, it’s nuffin’.” he waved his hand dismissively as he said this. “Jus’ know dat dey don’t mean no ‘arm. ‘Kay?”

“I know…” she started. “But I still don’t like it.”

The elderly Dark-Type stared at her curiously for a few seconds before shrugging. “I just don’t git ye, Vivvy. Yer so 'appy n' upbeat all th'time, n'yet ya deal wit chumps like dem fellers 'oo just left all d'time. 'Ow d'ya manage?" His eyes were visibly growing heavy. "Say, d’ya mind leavin’? Ol’ Festus wants t’have a snooze.”

He tilted his chair back a little and closed his eyes, signalling for us to not respond. We got up and left quietly, Vivace closing the door gently behind us.

“Well, that was a bit shorter than I had expected, but a lot of our meetings are!” she said happily. “Now, you oughta be headed home, huh? I’ve kept you busy all evening!”

I agreed that I should be headed home. We bid our farewells, which apparently to her includes a spine-crushing bear hug.

After we separated, she suggested “Come see one of my shows later, ‘kay?” She trotted out the door, assumedly to wherever she lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I haven't done any author's notes for this yet, and so I thought I'd do some here. :3 I'll have the next chapter out in a week or two, and by then we'll have met all the characters and can get into some pllllllllot!  
> Also, brownie points to whoever knew where Current recognized Vivace from!  
> -Yerboi Cg39


	6. Righteousness

The Vertueux district. Never in all my life had I been so disgusted…

It had been three days since my evening with Vivace. The day after, I received a letter from my employer with new, more reasonable terms. I had a meeting arranged with Tom in just under a week to discuss it. The day after that, I adventured around more of the northern end of Greyhaven. On this day, the first day that it actually started snowing, I went to the very southern end, the last part of Greyhaven for me to see. And by Arceus, was I shocked.

The place was filthy. The tar street was cracked and uneven, and the poor excuses for buildings that were lining the streets were barely standing. It was a stark contrast to the distinguished beauty of the Castelia district. Slum was an understatement. It was a hovel, a rathole, an army of shacks, each one ready to collapse and kill its inhabitants any second.

Although I was petrified, some weird sort of force within me told me to continue in. And so I did. It positively reeked, as if a Raticate that had been dead for three weeks were covered in blue cheese and given to a Skuntank to use as a bed. Maybe worse than that, actually, but my morals refuse to allow my imagination to make a more accurate analogy. Needless to say, I wanted to vomit where I stood. And yet, some unknown force was telling me to keep going. At first I thought it was my own sense of adventure telling me, but my sense of adventure wasn’t foolish. No, something else was telling me to continue. To this day I do not know what.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. The stench was tolerable once you basked in it for a few minutes. And the buildings being in the state they were in wasn’t so bad as well, since buildings cannot feel love or pain, and cannot die. The worst part was the inhabitants.

There were Pokémon all around, clotting the street as if it were a scab. Few were up and moving, most were sitting or laying on the street. None of them were smiling, all were impoverished. One Chansey that I passed was thinner than I was, and Chansey is a naturally plump Pokémon. Some were already dead, or almost so, littering the street like garbage. Many gave the bodies nervous glances as they passed by, knowing that if luck was against them for so much as a few days, they would be joining them on the pavement.

_Why was I here? No, why were they here?_

As I stopped on the side of the street for a few moments, observing my surroundings in utter horror, I felt a light tap on my tail. I turned to see a Leafeon behind me, crouched down, for whatever reason, looking up at me. Her expression was scared, but hopeful.

“Excuse me, sir.” her tone was quiet and meek. “Do you have any spare change?”

Compassion filled my being as it had never done before. If I had brought the pouch I kept my money in with me, the whole thing would already be within her paws. Unfortunately, I had to tell her I had nothing on me, making her head tilt down to face the ground in despair. I felt like the most selfish Pokémon alive.

Suddenly a gruff voice called out from somewhere behind me. “Hey! You!” The Leafeon’s head immediately shot up to locate the voice, fear evident in her chocolate-brown eyes. Without hesitation, she darted past me and across the street. I turned just in time to see a Houndoom rush into a back alley on the other side of the street, unmistakably giving chase. Worried, and ignoring my instincts for self-preservation, I went in after them.

After less than thirty seconds, I came to a dead end in the alley, and beheld the Houndoom and Leafeon engaged in an intense battle. The Houndoom was preparing a Fire Fang, and lunged at his opponent, who was backed into a corner. She nimbly sprang up and over his head, dodging the move, and landed behind him before hitting him with an X-Scissor. He bellowed in pain before turning around rapidly and using Flamethrower, which she just barely dodged. She darted back to the same corner she had been in before, opting now for a defensive stance. The Houndoom used another Flamethrower, though this time, oddly, she didn’t dodge. She absorbed the burning attack, though just barely, I imagine, and came at him with an Aerial Ace. Since the expert attack couldn’t be avoided, the Houndoom knew better than to attempt to do so, and stood and took the blow before grabbing her with a Crunch and throwing her on the floor in the other corner. Laughing, he walked slowly towards her weak body.

“Oh, Eleanor. Ever brave, ever foolish. Tell me, why did you come back onto the Boss’ turf?”

She managed to lift her head to face him. Her eyes were full of plea. “Sir, please, I beg you to show mercy! My sister needed someplace colder than where we were, and these were the widest alleys I kne-”

“SHUT IT!” He roared. “Save it for Arceus. You’re about to meet him.”

Without thinking, I fired a Scald at her aggressor, managing to hit him square in the back of the head. It must have landed critically, too, since he stumbled forwards and to the side from the impact and slammed into the wall, reversing the direction of his stumble. The Leafeon saw her chance, and came at him with a well-timed X-Scissor, hitting him in the chest and making him collapse onto the floor.

We waited for a few seconds, to see if he would get back up. His chest was still rising and falling, but except for that he made no movement whatsoever. Once the injured Grass-Type was certain her life was no longer in danger, she began speaking.

“I… I don’t know how to thank you.” her breathing was ragged. “I don’t know what… what would have happened to us if you weren’t there. We owe our lives to you.”

I asked her who else she was referring to with ‘we’. She pointed with a singed ear at the corner she had been standing in when she got hit by the Flamethrower attack, and there, laying in the corner, assumedly asleep, was a Glaceon. Eleanor looked to be about my age, and the Glaceon looked significantly younger. Perhaps fifteen or sixteen. Realization hit me as I understood why she didn’t dodge the Fire-Type attack: she was afraid it would hit the Glaceon, who I could guess was her sister.

I looked back at Eleanor. She appeared lost in thought. After a few moments, she shook her head defiantly, returning to reality. “That’s it. I’m done living here. I’m done putting Cass in pointless danger. I’m going to accept the Preacher’s request.”

The Preacher again. So even the residents of Vertueux knew him. Actually, now that I thought about it, Vivace had said that he helped those in need, so it made sense that the Pokémon of this district were familiar with him. He probably worked with them more than with anyone else.

Eleanor went over to her sister and shook her gently. “Cass~” she coaxed softly. The Ice-Type stirred a little, and I saw her eyes flutter open.

“Hey, Cass.” Eleanor greeted, now that her sister was awake. “We’re going to get out of here, okay? We’re going to go live with the Preacher.” Her tone was gentle and motherly, as if she was talking to a baby.

It took Cass the Glaceon a while to interpret her sister’s words in her half-asleep state. “I thought you said we weren’t going to.” her tone was confused. “You said he has enough Pokémon to deal with as it is.”

The Grass-Type shook her head. “No. It’s as he said: no amount should be too many to help. I’m sure he won’t mind. It’s safer in Capella, and he’ll be able to provide us with food and water and somewhere to sleep, m’kay?”

The younger sibling nodded weakly, and stood up as her older sister got off of her. As she got on all fours, however, her slender legs began trembling, and she collapsed again. Eleanor’s eyes filled with fear. “Cass…?” she ran back to her and held her worriedly. “Cass!?” her voice was panic-stricken.

The Ice-Type was visibly shivering. “It’s… cold…”

Eleanor’s breathing was becoming more and more shallow. She appeared to hesitate, then turned to me, as if I was a last resort. “Could you help me carry her to the Capella district? Please? You’ve already done so much for us, but she’s pretty heavy, and we need to get her to the Preacher as quickly as possible. An Ice-Type like her shouldn’t be reacting to the cold this negatively.”

What kind of Pokémon would it make me if I had refused? I used my back to support her chest, while Eleanor used the back of her neck to support her other end. In this awkward manner, we carried the sick Glaceon out of the horrific Vertueux district and across the city.

 

\----

 

Eleanor signalled to me with her paw that we were coming close to our destination. It had been well over two hours. Thankfully, I could still hear Cass’ faint heartbeat against my spine.

We were coming up on some sort of religious building. Of course. That made sense. The term preach was often associated with religious teachings, so of course the Preacher would be religious. Vivace had called it a chapel, but it looked too big to be called that. It was more like a larger-than-average church. As we drew closer, I noticed that there was a symbol above the door. It was a green triangle with a large grey circle within it, and along the edges of the circle were three smaller ones, one red, one purple, one blue. The circles were very intricately decorated.

When we were a few metres away from the door, it flew open and a worried-looking elderly Decidueye stood within the doorframe, holding it open. He wore a plain, light grey robe that covered the entirety of his body, save for the tips of his wings and his head.

“My goodness, child, I told you to come here sooner! Pride has destroyed many a good Pokémon, and I feared you would not see reason and would fall among them! Come in, come in! I shall have Cass looked to.”

He hurriedly lifted Cass from our backs and handed her to an Audino behind him, ordering her to find what was ailing her. She nodded and carried the Glaceon off, with surprising strength. Once they were out of sight, the Preacher turned to Eleanor once again.

“I do hope you have come to reconsider my offer. All is too few for the House of Arceus to care for.” While he sounded concerned, his voice seemed to have a permanent forlorn sound to it. Perhaps age did that to a Decidueye.

Eleanor closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes. If no one else is seeking your aid, then we would love to live here until we can support ourselves.” tears began leaking out of her eyes and onto her cream fur. “I just… I’m just so… _sick_ of it. I’m sick of being needy. I’m sick of having no home!" She suddenly charged into the old Grass-Type and buried her face in his robe, now full-on sobbing. It was heartbreaking to watch. “I don’t want to be penniless! I don’t want to be insignificant! I don’t… I don’t want to be just another street rat! I don’t want _anyone_ to be!”

She continued her sobbing as the Preacher stroked her back comfortingly and whispered reassuring words to her, quiet enough that I couldn’t quite decipher them. His gaze met mine.

“It was kind of you to aid Eleanor, child. She and her sister are such lovely Pokémon, and deserve far better than they have.”

I told him I had had no choice in the matter. If I didn’t help them, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. He smiled when I said this.

“I see Arceus has gifted you with his most valuable piece of knowledge. Consider yourself lucky. He has granted it to less than most care to believe.”

I didn’t doubt the truth of his words. I might have a month ago, but what I had seen so far on Greyhaven, especially on that day, had expelled all doubts. I voiced this to him.

“Knowledge shall always prevail over ignorance, and good over evil. As much as it may not look like it, this is the way Arceus made it.” He shook his head. “But now is not the time for a lesson on His teachings. You no doubt have your own agenda, do you not? See to it. A nation seldom lends aid to others when its own borders are under attack.” he paused, hesitated. “But when you are able to, do come by, will you not? I can never have too many helpers within this House of Arceus, and I find you an interesting individual.”

I thanked him and told him I would help whenever it was practical. I wasn’t lying, either. I thanked him and exited through the same door I entered through, Eleanor still sobbing into the Preacher’s shoulder when I closed the door, once again in the lightly falling snow.

To outsiders, Greyhaven was painted to be a paradise. And that wasn’t false. The catch was, it was a paradise to the fortunate few. To many, Greyhaven was a living nightmare. One that they woke up to every morning, and lived in every day. This was true for both of my newfound acquaintances, Eleanor and Cass. Those who were in the middle could do little to bring justice, as the fates of all those within Greyhaven was controlled entirely by the GGC. And the worst part of it all, the seal on the coffin that was their fate, was that there was no escape from it. As I learned from Tom a matter of days later, emigration was outlawed in Greyhaven.

But, whether or not this is changed, and if so, how, is not my story to tell. I have done my part, what was required of me. As of now, I leave the rest of this tale in the hands of whatever powers that may or may not be. I trust they will tell the rest of this story, including the parts that involve me and the parts that don’t, with accuracy, skill, and faithfulness.


	7. Acquaintances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while, sorry! I'll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't happen again!

It was dark. Very dark.

She didn’t know where she was. Was she out on the street? It certainly didn’t look like it. The place she was in seemed quite wide and flat. Like a gymnasium during a power outage, but darker.

She looked up from the ground, which she had been staring at up until now, to see what she could see. Not much, thanks to the lack of light. As she pivoted her head where she stood, her eyes slowly getting used to the low light, she began to make out the slim, cream-coloured figure of her older sister, not far away. Relieved, she dashed for the Leafeon.

“Eleanor!” she whispered hurriedly. She didn’t want to make too much noise. After all, she didn’t know who else was in here. Her sister was in the standard quadruped sitting-down position, gazing at the floor below her motionlessly. She waved a paw in her sister’s face. No reaction. She was starting to feel scared, now.

After a few more attempts to get some sort of reaction out of her sister, she turned away with an exasperated sigh. Now more used to the darkness, she could make out other figures, scattered around the dark area. They all held a similar posture to her sister: sitting motionless, while looking straight down at the floor below them. All of them appeared to be quadruped and mammalian, except for one that resembled a fish.

Then, she heard a spine-chilling sound above her. She looked up slowly, to see that above their heads a massive spider web spanned as far as the eye could see. And on the web, walking over her head just now, was a massive Ariados. Unlike a normal Ariados, however, its body was pitch black, and its eyes a blood-red, almost glowing with the colour. She was paralyzed with fear. She was thankful she hadn’t yelled for her sister, because it didn’t seem to have noticed her, despite having been only a few feet above her head a few seconds ago.

She was backing up slowly, wanting to keep it from seeing her. It had to be five metres long, at least. Oddly, though, the room appeared to be getting even darker. No, no, this couldn’t happen! Then she wouldn’t be able to see the Ariados! Then what would happen!?

As her vision finally went completely black, it began to reform, and she now beheld the inside of a cozy bedroom for two. She was laying on her side, facing away from the wall and towards the bed on the other side of the rather small room, where her sister was sitting as she quietly read a book. Her stirring made the Leafeon look up from her reading, right at her.

“Hey, Cass. Feeling any better?”

She rubbed her eyes lazily. Her mind was thinking of things besides that. What on earth was that crazy dream? Should she tell Eleanor about it…? No, Eleanor would just worry. Not to mention that her sister knew absolutely nothing about dreams. She didn’t want to make her lose sleep over something that she couldn’t help her with. Maybe she would tell the Preacher later. He knew a lot about dreams.

“Earth to Cass: do you copy?”

“O-oh, sorry.” Pulled back into reality, she did a mental self-scan. She was feeling a bit better. She wasn’t shivering, and was able to think clearly, so her health was definitely improving. She hoped her treatment hadn’t cost the Preacher too much. “Uh, y-yeah, I’m feeling better.”

“Glad to hear it.” she got up and moved over to Cass’ bed, where she sat down again as she started stroking her one of her sister’s teal dangles gently. “You woke up just in time. The Preacher’s arranged a little get-together downstairs in about half an hour. He said he wants us to be there, but wouldn’t say why. Apparently we’ll understand when everyone else arrives.”

New Pokémon? The thought made her nervous. But then again, the Preacher was the only Pokémon that Cass trusted besides his volunteers and her sister, and she knew he would never put her in a dangerous situation. She would just have to have faith in him. She nodded with as much confidence as she could muster, which wasn’t much. “O-okay. I j-just want to shower first.”

 

\----

 

What an interesting individual…

This was what was going through Rachael’s mind as she socialized with the upbeat Fairy-Type known as Vivace. She _would_ feel sorry for the Sylveon, since she knew that the actor’s lifestyle would never suit herself, but it was plainly obvious how different the two Eevee evolutions were, and so she imagined that Vivace didn’t really mind all the attention she got on a daily basis. Actually, no, she didn’t have to imagine it, she recalled the ribbon-clad quadruped mentioning her relative happiness with what she currently had in life.

“...and so then I said, ‘are you _sure_ that’s a potato? It looks more like a Dugtrio egg’, and then he said ‘yeah, I’m sure, sweetie. See, look!’ and then smashed it over his knee and then all this yolk went everywhere.”

This caught the Espeon’s attention. “I wasn’t aware Dugtrio even laid eggs!”

“I _know_ , right! You would think that because they’re mammalian they would give live birth like us, but apparently not! Could have something to do with them being mostly underground.”

They were currently seated at a table in one of the larger rooms of the Preacher’s house, awaiting more guests that he claimed were coming. ‘The Preacher’s house’ was the most common name for the church-like structure, which made no sense to Rachael, because it clearly didn’t look like an actual domicile. The Preacher himself had left temporarily, claiming he had to check on the food. It smelled good, whatever it was.

Just then, two more quadrupeds entered the room, one a light blue and the other a light cream, with green in certain spots. Vivace immediately got up from her chair and ran over to greet them.

“Hi! How are you? I’m Vivace! Nice to meet you! Did you come for the hangout? ‘Cuz it’d be pretty funny if you didn’t and you just came here when there was a get-together by chance! Oh, what are your names?”

Previously friendly-looking, the Leafeon was now wary. This Sylveon was definitely unlike any other Pokémon she had met. “Erm, I’m Eleanor, and this is my sister, Cass.”

“H-h-hi…” Cass was even less used to social interaction than Eleanor was.

The Fairy-Type had now grabbed one of each of the two’s forepaws, each with a ribbon, and was shaking them so enthusiastically it might have come off as violent. “Cool! I’m sure we’ll be great friends! Oh! I know! I should have you come see one of my improv shows sometime! They’re pretty neat! If you have the time, that is! It’s okay if you don’t!”

Eleanor was quite dumbfounded by the energetic Pokémon. Cass was outright terrified, already cringing away from the pink and white menace. Her sister shot her a stern look that said ‘be polite!’ She gulped and stepped forward again. Luckily, just before she was forced to actually start a conversation with the smiling Sylveon, a familiar blue Pokémon stepped into the room behind them.

“Hello?” he asked in the quiet voice that all of them knew. “Is this the right spot? Dusk told me there was a party.”

“CURRENT!” Vivace ran past the two sisters, much to their relief, and aggressively delivered a massive bear hug to the Water-Type, much to his surprise. Sylveon was supposed to be a slow, ranged attacker, favouring its Fairy-Type abilities over physical strength, and yet so far this one was proving to be quite the contrary.

“How are ya, Current? You met the Preacher, huh? My description fit him perfectly! Right? Right?” she paused, as if realizing something. “Wait, did you say Dusk told you…?”

“You rang?” directly behind Current, still in the doorway, was none other than the detective himself. Vivace immediately got off of Current and dashed the short distance to Dusk, though this time refrained from any bear hugs.

“Good to see my little Cheri Berry made it! Hee hee!”

Current had turned to witness this interaction. They knew each other? “Why is it that you call him _that_ , of all things?”

“Oh, I’ve been calling him that ever since this one time when we were chatting outside of the BIA after one of my shows, and some Liepard just came up and started flirting with him, so then I stepped in and told her to buzz off because he clearly wasn’t interested, and then I turned back and he was blushing so much he look-”

Dusk firmly and quickly put a paw over her mouth. “That’s enough out of you, thank you. But yeah, Vivvy and I go way back.” she nodded in agreement, his paw still stopping her from speaking. “Back when we were seven, is what I mean by way back. We’re pretty good friends. Now, might we get away from the door?”

Meanwhile, back over at the table, the two sisters had approached and introduced themselves to the Psychic-Type of the group, Rachael.

“That Sylveon is every kind of strange.” Eleanor gestured behind her with her tail to the Fairy-Type talking with Current and Dusk. “Well, not every kind. But a few. She seems lovely, but she’s a bit… intimidating, to certain people.”

“If I knew what drove her to act in such a manner, I would be a far more intelligent Pokémon.” Rachael shook her head slowly. “But, let us not dwell on these things. What do you do for a living, Eleanor?”

“Oh! Err… funny you ask. I’m, uh, currently unemployed. We’ve sorta been living in Vertueux for the last nine years.”

Eleanor’s ears fell backwards in surprise. “Oh my. Are you living here now, then?”

“Yeah, but we only have been for three days. I’m looking for a job now that I don’t have to make sure Cass isn’t abducted, and once I get one and sum up enough Greycoins, I’ll be able to get us an actual house, maybe somewhere in Insign or Centrico.”

“Ah. I see…” the state of Vertueux and its inhabitants was a constant source of guilt for Rachael, especially since she had spent her whole life living in the luxury of the Castelia district. She made frequent and generous donations to the Preacher, often against her father’s will, but she often felt as though that wasn’t enough.

“Enough about me, though. What do you do for a living, Rachael?”

“Oh, I have no employer. As of now, I am studying for degrees in astronomy, advanced electrical engineering, and Pokémon studies. It is challenging, though I rarely experience too great a deal of difficulty. I am among the top students in my class.” Did that make it sound like she was bragging? She hoped not.

“Whoo-ee! That sounds like something in Cass’ future! Back when she still attended school, her teachers frequently reported about her being one of the smartest kids they had ever seen, which made no sense because her marks were only decent.”

“Ah, that would be because the marks a child gets seldom accurately represent their abilities. All should strive for high marks nonetheless, as doing so shows perseverance, but they shouldn’t be discouraged by low grades.”

Cass wasn’t hearing the conversation taking place before her at all. She was too amazed. She recognized everyone in the room. They had all been in the dark dream!

Eleanor held up a paw over to table as if asking for a high-five. “To being jobless, then?”

Rachael hesitantly returned the gesture. “Yes, to being jobless. Though, not for long for either of us, I would imagine. My exams approach.”

A familiar Decidueye then entered through the same door everyone else had come in through. He did a scan of the room. “I see nearly everyone is present. We’re only missing two, and they were the ones I expected to run late.”

“Are you talking to me…?” Current asked this because he was the only one close enough to him to really hear him.

“Ah, no, child, I talk to myself more often than most Pokémon. It is a habit that may have ties to my background, I have no way of knowing.” The Grass-Type shrugged.

“I see. Changing the subject, who are the two others you’re waiting fo-” he paused as an expression of realization took over. “Wait a min-”

“Hey! Hang on a second! Everyone here except the Preacher is an evolution of Eevee!”

“Why, yes! That’s very observative of you, Vivace.” he shouted back across the room at her. From the look of it, she had been showing Dusk the different notes on the piano that was in the far corner of the room. She might not have known instruments that she didn’t play, but every musician had at least semi-advanced knowledge of the piano.

Two more figures entered from the cold outdoors, making the number of Pokémon in the room nine, equal to the number of chairs at the table. Dusk saw who had entered and turned away from Vivace to greet them.

“Tom! Nice to see ya, man! And Frere, too! You guys know each other?” he stopped his advance towards them as he thought about this. “Actually, that makes sense. You’ve probably interviewed him a few times, huh Frere?”

“Actually Dusk, we first met less than a month ago. I’ve known him for a shorter period of time than I have Current over there.” Tom gestured to the Vaporeon now sitting near Rachael as he said this. Current didn’t notice. “How do _you_ know Frere, Dusk?”

Frere answered the question himself. “I was lucky enough to get an interview with him back when he busted the Tyrannical Turtonator operation. Ever since, we’ve just never fallen out of touch.”

The Preacher was observing this interaction with a wing to his chin. “How curious that so many of you already know each other. This city’s big enough that odds would dictate none of you have ever met.”

Rachael chimed in from where she was still sitting. “And we can safely say at this stage that you called this meeting because it came to your attention that you knew one of all of Eevee’s evolutions. You found it bizarre, and wanted us all to know.”

“You would be correct, Rachael. Now if you will excuse me, I believe the food might be ready.”

 

\----

 

A few minutes passed, and they were now all sitting around the table, eating the spaghetti the Preacher had prepared. Current was talking with Rachael. Eleanor was getting to know Tom. Frere, Dusk, and Vivace were having a three-way conversation, and Cass was sitting next to the Preacher as he attempted to convince her to socialize, to no avail.

“Wow, this is really good!” Vivace stated loudly, her mouth full of sauce-drenched spaghetti. “It’s way better than the stuff I make!”

This confused Frere. “How is it better? This is one of the cheaper kinds of spaghetti available.”

“Well, this stuff is all bendy and flexible. When I make it at home, it goes all stiff and hard and burnt.”

The Preacher overheard the conversation and interjected. “Vivace, how would the pasta you prepare become stiff and burnt? That never happens.”

Vivace shrugged. “I dunno. I put it in the pot like I’m s’posed to, put it on the stove like I’m s'posed to, and turn the stove on like I’m s’posed to, and it doesn’t go all bendy! I’m super-duper confused, now.”

The Preacher sighed deeply. “Vivace, you don’t mean to tell me you cook your pasta without _water_ , do you?”

The Fairy-Type’s jaw fell limp. “Oh! You use water? Well, now I know the problem! Thanks, Preachy! Wait a minute…” the smile on her face faded to be replaced by a confused frown as both her ears tilted slightly to one side. She turned her head over to Dusk, who was eating contentedly next to her. He stopped and met her gaze when he noticed her looking at him.

“Hm?”

“It was you who told me the way I made spaghetti was good.” She didn’t sound reproachful, but puzzled. “How come you never told me I was doing it wrong?”

The Umbreon swallowed what he had in his mouth before speaking. “Because I like your way better.” he said without shame.

She returned to grinning as her ears shot back up. “Okay! I can still keep making it that way if you want!”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Yay! Thanks, Cheri Berry!” she used one of her feelers to noogie him. Ugh. This again.

“Would you stop calling me that?”

“Why? You _did_ look like a Cheri Berry.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You like it more than you liked that Liepard.”

He went silent as he metaphorically stabbed her with a disapproving look and returned to his spaghetti. Vivace noogied him again playfully, eventually eliciting a reluctant grin out of the Dark-Type.

“That has to be the oddest interaction I’ve ever seen.” the Preacher commented. He was resting his head on one wing, which was on the table.

Dusk looked up at him with a ghost of an impish spark in his eye. “So it would seem.” Darn, it was tough to act casual with a Sylveon giving you an endless noogie. Why was she so persistent?

On the other side of the table, Current and Rachael were having a separate conversation. The subject was Rachael’s academics.

“What is Pokémon studies, then? Is it similar to biology?”

“Some parts of it would be, yes.” She was twirling her forked tail with one of her paws. “Some parts are more similar to archaeology, with the study of evolution. Not the kind that takes place in a matter of seconds, mind, but the kind that takes place over eons. And then there are parts that are…” she tapped the side of the table repeatedly with her paw as she thought. “How to word this… they are something else. Yes. That is how I would put it.”

Leaning forward in interest, Current prompted “Go on.”

“It is the study of Pokémon’s unique abilities. _Mabeology_ , I believe it is called. A prime example is Espeon’s ability to create, harness and control psychic energy. Huge amounts of it, in fact. Rivalled only by the likes of Alakazam and Gardevoir. Science, thus far, has had no success in explaining these capabilities. And the same would apply to most other Pokémon.”

Nodding with what she was saying, Current responded “And that’s what _Mabeology_ hopes to accomplish.”

“You would be correct. It is rather new, and is in its primitive stages, so we barely do anything on it, but it is the main reason why I wished to enroll in the course. I believe my future as a Pokémon of science is in _Mabeology_.”

Across from the blue-and-mauve duo, a much more… volatile interaction was taking place between the newfound acquaintances Tom and Eleanor. The latter of the two was shocked to discover that the former was a member of the GGC. As you can imagine, she had developed a rather negative opinion of the assembly.

“So what was the logic behind that recent healthcare bill you passed, huh?” she interrogated rather aggressively. Tom’s ears were folded back in terror as he weighed the situation to decide whether his life was at risk or not. The sight of the Preacher passively observing them from the other side of the table tilted his opinion to the ‘no’ side. Feeling slightly more at ease, he took a breath in to respond.

“I am only in the GGC because my father was a member. I vote against nearly all the bills that are debated, including the one you just mentioned. To actually answer your question, those who spoke in its favour cited that privatizing hospitals would lower the amount of our GDP that is spent on healthcare, making savings overall.”

She wasn’t satisfied with his explanation, it would seem. “Maybe it’ll use up less funds because there’s _less Pokémon who can afford it_! You ever thought of that, Mr. Silvertongue?”

Tom huffed as his vexation with her grew. Despite this, he maintained an unperturbed demeanor. “Thank you for your insight. That was more or less my point when I spoke in opposition to it.” he leaned towards her, lowering his voice. “Know that I agree with your opinion on the GGC wholeheartedly, and understand your anger. However, I do not appreciate being grouped with those I work with by those like yourself. I _advocate_ you.” he tilted himself back towards his chair.

Eleanor definitely felt bad now. “Why- why aren’t you trying to do anything about it, then? You’re a member, surely they have to listen to your ideas!”

He laughed. It wasn’t a joyous laugh. “Oh, I’m one voice in exactly seventy-eight. Two representing each district, save for Eun and Castelia, which each get three, and Vertueux, which gets none. Any and all ideas that I have are simply added to the pile, and the High Council make a point of prioritizing the proposals of the members who fit their views more. So, I’m doing all I can, thank you very much.”

“Oh… well… uh…” embarrassed by her naivety, Eleanor turned her focus back to the plate of spaghetti in front of her. Seeing that the interrogation was over, Tom followed suit.

 

\----

 

There were only leftovers remaining. Not on the Preacher’s watch. He would put the uneaten spaghetti in the fridge, and would later heat it for himself and others living in the building. As for now, he had farewells to bid.

“This evening has been a great deal of fun, both for myself and for you all.” he addressed the assembled members of the Eevee family, who were now idly chatting. They all halted, of course, when they heard him. “I am quite glad that you are now all acquainted, and, I must admit, astounded that many of you are already acquainted. Know that I would like to see you all again. In fact, I formally invite all of you here for Light Day.”

There were mixed reactions. Vivace jumped up and down, hollering her approval, Tom smiled lightly, knowing he had that day off, Dusk shrugged indifferently, and Current looked around at the others quizzically, as he had no idea what Light Day was. Overall, the Preacher was pleased by their response.

“Very well, then. I look forward to you getting to know one another.” he took some time to look at the group. “I believe you may be able to learn from one another. Until Light Day, then! Go, and in Arceus’ name spread goodwill and kindness!”

And so, they departed. It wasn’t until Dusk was halfway to the police station that he realized that the Preacher had dismissed them at exactly the start of Union Hour, which was when he held a small service. _Well done_ , he thought. _Well done_.


	8. Division

“Today, the GGC assembles at this hallowed hall to assess and vote on the _Castelia Relief Act_ , a noble bill geared towards helping those who are most important to Greyhaven’s functions. He who proposes the bill, High Commander Padriag, shall now speak.”

“Thank you, Ms. Overseer. I would like to speak in this bill’s favour. The GGC makes an immense amount of Greycoins from the tax collected from the residents of the Castelia district; so much so that it becomes wasted on already-supplementarily funded programs such as the police force and social security. Surely, this noble council must agree that the Greycoins would be better placed back within the bank accounts of these prestigious Pokémon, who will use it better than we: as a means of further stimulating the economy.”

 _You have_ got _to be kidding me._ This shot through Tom’s mind as he listened to the Dragonite that held the position of High Commander, which was to say the top dog of the High Council, who were in charge of writing and proposing bills. There were only seven members of the High Council including Padriag, and Tom didn’t have a particularly high opinion of any of them.

A Yanmega in one of the far corners of the legislative assembly stood up at the Overseer’s recognition. “Ms. Overseer, I too would like to speak in this bill’s favour. It should be this noble council’s priority to better the economy, so as to distribute the wealth among the population and increase the standard of living. This bill will act as one of the steps in reaching that goal, should it be passed.”

More spoke with identical points, but worded differently. Eventually, Tom was recognized by the Overseer.

“Ms. Overseer, surely this noble council sees that the _Castelia Relief Act_ is greatly flawed. The government needs the Greycoins that the taxpayers of Castelia give in order to finance the much-needed police force and the social security net, the latter of which is already quite underfunded. If tax cuts should be in place, they should occur in lower-income districts such as Moins Focter, Bacinite and Fontino. Not only will this hurt public services less, but surely if the residents of those districts have more money, then the increase in spending shall also stimulate the economy.” He sat back down. He had abstained from mentioning the Vertueux district because attempting to defend Vertueux in the GGC usually lost you all of your support. Tom, of course, had learned this lesson the hard way.

A Bewear was recognized next. “Ms. Overseer, I dare hope this noble council sees the falseness of those words. The social security system merely gives financial support to those who do not deserve it, and crime is nearly completely unknown, thus eliminating the need for the continue overfunding of the police force. Those who live in Castelia have jobs in the Eun district, and thus are the ones who truly make the economy function. If we wish to oil the gears that give Greyhaven its standard of living, they are the ones who would make this great city benefit from it the most.” The Normal- and Fighting-Type sat back down, satisfied with what it had said.

Another was recognized. Tom groaned inwardly as the proceedings continued. The few who opposed the Act fought against it valiantly, even reading out a formal request from the police to not pass the bill. After about an hour, it was voted on, and passed without amendment. Just like always.

 

\----

 

Okay, Dark-Types were supposed to be sneaky and all, and that stereotype was actually mostly true. But how in Arceus’ beautiful, ugly world was he supposed to stay crammed in a dumpster with a Dedenne for an entire night!? He wasn’t even exaggerating! That’s what he had been told to do!

“It’s… a bit smelly in here, huh?”

“Yeah, you think, Maybelle?” he whispered back. If they made too much noise, the mission was compromised. The tiny mouse wasn’t the most intelligent in idle conversation, but she was good at her job. A surprising amount of Pokémon weren’t aware that Dedenne was also a Fairy-Type, meaning she could take on Fighting-, Dragon-, and, as much as he hated to admit it, Dark-Types very effectively. It’s as Chief Clorge says: the best kind of advantage is the kind your foe doesn’t know you have.

They were poised to surprise attack an unknown number of mobsters. Their intelligence showed that organized criminal activity took place frequently in the alley they were in in the heart of the Rosom district, and so they were there to apprehend the culprits. Usually there was a better hiding spot, such as an accessible rooftop, a willing civilian’s house, or hell, even a bigger dumpster!

“Well, let’s look on the bright side. At least it’s _cold_ garbage. This same mission during summer would be a heck of a lot smellier.”

Officer Maybelle nodded in agreement, and silence returned. As he let his mind wander, it occured to Dusk that he was technically in charge of this mission since he outranked her. He was a detective, while she was only an officer. However, managing a team wasn’t his specialty. This was why the Chief tried not to send him on missions with partners, and when he did, he only gave him one or two. It actually increased the odds of success in his case.

The mouse cop looked like she was going to say something else, but stopped herself at the sound of footfalls. Dusk’s ears perked up so that they were vertical, which was an impulse that he had placed his head low in anticipation of. He listened. There were multiple sets of feet, perhaps about four. Two if they were quadrupeds, by the way the footsteps were all out of order, that wasn’t the case. His partner moved to creep out of the dumpster, but he raised a paw to signal to her to wait. If they were here to make a transaction, then another would be coming. They wanted to catch everyone involved.

“Harry, you sure this is the right spot?” a feminine voice questioned.

“Of course I’m sure. We’ve been doing this for seven years now, you think my memory’s going to just suddenly fail me?”

“Well, gee, no need to snap at her, Harry.”

“Whaddya mean, no need to snap at her? Just because this is her first time doesn’t give her some right to ask some idiotic question every other second!”

“Woah, Harry, calm down. We both know you were like that the first time you did this.” This fourth voice was very deep, like a Wailord’s call. It also appeared to be the furthest from their hiding spot. “Now, hush. I think that’s him.”

Two more sets of footsteps entered the alley. The Umbreon in the dumpster could tell from the way they moved in a synchronized manner that it was a quadruped.

“Sorry I’m late,” a gruff voice said. “I’ve got her right here. A Gourgeist, as promised.”

There was some silence, save for some slow footsteps. Harry spoke next. “She’s not quite the same as you described her, but close enough. She’ll sell for a good price.”

“As you promised? What about those two Eeveelutions you said you’d get as well?” the female of the group spoke this time.

The gruff voice laughed embarrassedly. “Well, I looked all over Vertueux, but I couldn’t find them. They must have left the district.”

“And trying to find them when they could be anywhere in the whole city is hopeless.” the first voice who had chastised Harry finished. “We get it. Finding them in one district? Sure. You’ve done it before, even. Somewhere in the entirety of Greyhaven? Needle in a haystack.”

Now it was the deep voice’s turn. “Do not forget that the boss will be less understanding than us, Sir. He will surely have some form of punishment prepared for you.”

“Yeah, yeah. The boss loves me. It won’t be anything more than a slap on the wrist.”

 _Wait a minute… Sir? Boss? Could it be…? No way! We’ve hit a pot of gold!_ He gestured to his partner to get her attention. If his suspicion was correct, he was going to need her help with this. Once he got her attention, he silently mouthed the words ‘three, two, one, go!’ and at the last word, they sprang from the cramped, filthy bin.

Still airborne, Dusk immediately opted for a Foul Play against his nearest opponent, which happened to be a Tsareena, the owner of the female voice. The move hit her hard, since Tsareena could hit quite heavily, and Foul Play used the foe’s own power against them. She now stood before him, facing the ground in pain. Taking advantage of her being dazed from his attack, he broke his battle stance and opted for a calm, relaxed one. When she looked up at him in shock, and then in bewilderment at his demeanor, he quickly threw a sucker punch, knocking the Grass-Type to the floor once and for all. This move, known as Feint Attack, used deception to ensure that it didn’t miss. With her out of the battle, he turned to see Maybelle engaging a Scrafty and Houndoom at the same time. He recognized the Houndoom as the infamous criminal Sir. Yeah. That was his name. Sir. He was notorious for kidnapping Pokémon from Vertueux and other districts, and for being particularly good at evading the authorities. His battling expertise, as Dusk was just now learning from observing this battle, was below-par, or at least to him it was. The Scrafty Maybelle was also engaging, who Dusk could guess was Harry, was already visibly near-fainting, as could be expected from a Scrafty fighting a well-seasoned Fairy-Type.

He got hit in the left flank at a terrific speed with brutal force; the owner of the deep voice. After being sent flying and slamming into the wall, he managed to look up to see a Golisopod coming towards him, deadly-sharp claws ready. He must have hit him with a super-effective First Impressions.

“Damn coppers…” he muttered. He crossed his arms to prepare a lethal X-Scissor. Just before he swung, Dusk right-rolled out of the way and agilely jumped back to his feet before activating a Wish. He would, of course, have to wait for it to take effect, meaning he was vulnerable until then.

 _Well then, maybe it’s time we put our Bug- and Water-Type pal here on a timer._ Before his adversary could attempt to attack him again, he dove at him and administered a Toxic straight to his belly. He used a significantly more potent dose than usual, partially because Golisopod was over six feet tall, and partially because he wanted him on the floor and unconscious relatively quickly. The dose he used would have been potentially deadly to a Grass- or Fairy-Type of the same size as the massive bug, but he knew for a fact that it wouldn’t be life-threatening to any other foe. As per usual, his adversary was confused by him opting for what felt like a weak Tackle, and then darting away immediately. He hoped the shrewd grin plastered on his face didn’t give away what he had done.

Luckily, it didn’t seem to have, as the Hard Scale Pokémon laughed at the weakness of the blow. The guffaws abruptly evolved into a fit of coughing, and he spat up some blood as he did so. Yeowch. That was a side effect if he’d ever seen one. Seeing the arthropod continue coughing gave him the green light to turn his attention away from him for a while. Looking back over at Maybelle’s two-on-one battle, and saw much to his delight that it had been lowered to a one-on-one, simply Maybelle against Sir. Dusk resolved to change it back to a two-on-one, hastily readied the poison hidden within his skin, came at the Houndoom from behind and administered a weaker Toxic to him, quickly jumping off of his back where he hit him with it. The Dark- and Fire-Type didn’t need a very strong dose, since he figured that Maybelle had already weakened him plenty.

His hunch was confirmed as he saw the canine already showing symptoms, such as weakening limbs and shortness of breath. He had made the task far simpler for the tiny-yet-formidable mouse. She tackled him and continued to pummel him with several punches and kicks, which a semi-avid battler could recognize as the Fairy-charged attack Play Rough. It proved to be too much for the Dark Pokémon. His trembling legs gave in, and he collapsed, not yet unconscious, but soon to be so thanks to the Toxic.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dusk saw the Golisopod unconscious. He would have to have him checked to make sure that he hadn’t administered a dose that would do lasting damage. The defeated foe aside, both the cops’ heads turned to face the fifth and last member of the gang: a short, scrawny, and visibly trembling Heliolisk standing meekly next to a whimpering Gourgeist who didn’t seem to notice what was going on.

“I, uh, surrender! P-please don’t hurt me!”

“Good choice, brother. Consider yourself arrested.”

As per protocol, Maybelle went about using Thunder Wave on all the unconscious criminals, so as to prevent them from fleeing or effectively retaliating when they awoke. Dusk used Mean Look on the one conscious mobster, since he couldn’t be affected by Thunder Wave. Maintaining eye contact with the Electric- and Normal-Type to make sure Mean Look’s effect remained, he pulled out a communicator and brought it to his face.

“Detective Dusk to HQ, do you copy?”

The voice of a familiar Arbok came on the other end. “Loud and clear, detective.”

“Myself and officer Maybelle, reporting from the Rosom district, have apprehended a total of five criminals, repeat, five criminals, one of whom is the much sought-after Sir. Over.”

Though the Poison-Type did a good job of hiding the amazement and excitement in her voice, it was still noticeable to Dusk. “Will send a team down to assist you, expect them in ten minutes, repeat, ten minutes. Over.”

His Dedenne partner was now comforting the would-be-trafficked Gourgeist. Their one conscious detainee didn’t look like he was in the mood for conversation either, leaving Dusk with his own thoughts. If they had apprehended Sir, then that meant that they were on the trail of the Tyranitar Mob.

 

\----

 

“Carlos? Vivace? Festus wants to see you. He says it’s important.”

“Alright.”

“‘Kay!!”

Vivace got up from the computer she was at and started down the hall to Festus’ office. She made a few turns, waving to certain Pokémon with a ribbon, and came to the quaint, white door that marked the BIA Executive Manager’s office, or as Festus called it, ‘the big importn’t feller’s crib’. She liked his name for it better. Behind her she could hear the clanking of her friend Carlos, coming to the office as well. She opened the door without knocking, as her boss insisted, and came into the small, decorated room, beholding a familiar Krookodile and Empoleo-

 _Whaaah?_ What was _he_ doing here? He _never_ showed! Ever!

“Ipsa!? You’re here? Not that I’m complaining or nothin’, but _you’re here?_ ”

Carlos, who had come in behind the Fairy-Type, had a similarly shocked expression on their face. “Woah! Ipsa!? How long has it been?”

“Yes, it has been some time since I have made any sort of appearance in these offices.” The Empoleon put his wings behind his back. “As Festus’ right-hand-Pokémon, I’m in charge of publicity, and in this position it is more efficient of me to work from my own home. Regardless, I am here now.”

Festus nodded. “Whu he dun said. We gots us a proponimision thingy fer y’all.”

The Water-Type in the room continued once again. “Despite the efforts of my department of the BIA, it has come to my attention that show attendance has been steadily dropping for nearly a year, now.”

“Uh-huh. I noticed that, too.” Although Carlos didn’t exactly fit the stereotype for Metagross, they did possess a lot of the attributes commonly given to the Iron Leg Pokémon, and an affinity for recognizing patterns was definitely on the list. “Well, neither of us can help you with that very much, save for photo shoots for posters and whatnot.”

The leader of the organization leaned forward in his seat a little more. “Yeh, bu’ even den, du ones wit Vivvy on dem make us look like a strip club or sum’in. But nah, y’all can ‘elp in udder ways. Wanna tell ‘em, Ippa?”

The contrastingly distinguished Empoleon thanked his crude boss and laid it out. “My belief is that we can attract youths to the BIA using improvisational classes. The educational system cut out any form of drama class within their curricula and extracurricular programs, so those with passion for the stage are forced to the rather expensive classes in the Teatri district. Should we offer less expensive classes for improvised theatre, we will increase public interest in the BIA, make a profit, and give youths something to do with their Giradies.” he then reached for two papers on his boss’ desk. “Of course, such a thing musn’t be rushed into. We intend to start only two classes, in the weeks following Light Day. A test run, if you will. And we wish for you two to be the teachers of said classes.”

“O-oh!” Vivace didn’t know how to react. Why did they pick _them_ , out of everyone in the BIA?

“You no doubt are questioning why we selected you two, out of the entirety of the BIA. It is fairly simple. You two are the best we have.” Ipsa handed the papers to the two actors. “Should you not wish to, simply inform us, and we shall search for another. Thank you for your time.” the Water- and Steel-Type strolled past them and out of the office.

There were a few moments where nothing happened. Where Carlos and Vivace merely stood there, stunned by the sudden bombardment of flattery as Festus observed them silently. Then, Vivace abruptly darted out of the room. The other two might have questioned why in the world she left so quickly, but she knew why: to find a pen.

 

\----

 

“I simply am not certain if I am fully prepared for this.”

“Rachael, I’m certain it won’t be a problem for you.”

“That’s quite simple for you to say, Current. You have no knowledge of the material I am studying.”

“If you're that unconfident, perhaps I could help you prepare.”

“As I have previously stated, you have no knowledge of the material I am studying.”

“I fancy myself a fast learner. C’mon, let’s see the textbook.”

A sigh of defeat. “Very well, then. The first chapter focuses on…”


	9. Light Day

“Current! Currentcurrentcurrent! Wake up, Current! C’mon, Current! You gotta get up, Current! Current! Get up, Current! C’mon! Get up! Current! Current! Current! Get up, Current! Current! C’mon! Current!”

His eyes groggily opened to the sound of a loud, impatient, and above all else, unexpected Vivace in his rather plain bedroom.

“Wh-wha…? Vivace?”

“Oh, good! You’re up! C’mon c’mon c’mon! We gotta go! Quickity split!” She roughly tugged his foreleg with a ribbon to emphasize her point.

“Why? Is something wrong?” His voice was contrastingly quiet due to not having fully awoken yet.

She was still tugging his forearm persistently. “Yes, something is _very_ wrong! It’s Light Day, and you’re missing it!”

Ah, right. This Light Day that he had never heard of. He recalled the Preacher inviting them all to his house for this event. “What’s it about, even?”

She stopped tugging out of shock when he finished his sentence. “Ya mean you don’t _know_ about Light Day!? Where ya been living your whole life!?”

“Outside of Greyhaven,” he reminded her. “A place where such a thing was never mentioned.”

She had stepped back a few paces, allowing him space to get up. “Oh, right! I keep forgetting. Hee-hee! Well, Light Day celebrates Necrozma! You know it, right? The Legendary Pokémon of light!”

Well, that made sense. He had expected the name to be some sort of metaphor, but it was actually quite straightforward. “Well, why this day, of all days?”

Vivace jumped up a little bit as she spoke. “It’s ‘cuz… um… I can’t remember, but the Preacher’s reallyreally good at explaining it! And we have a way of knowing it’s Light Day, too, even if we forget! Not that lots of folks do, but it’s there just in case! C’mon! Come look!” without another word, she darted out of the Water-Type’s room. He gave chase.

“Wait! Hang on!” she was already outside, staring up at the sky when he caught up to her with barely any breath. “How… phew... did you get into my house?”

Her eyes didn’t move from where they were looking, which was straight up. “I let myself in. The front door wasn’t locked.” she pointed up with a ribbon. “Look.”

“How did you even find my house? I never told you where I live!”

Her eyes still remained unmoving. “Rachael told me you live in Lumiose, so I went into every unlocked door sequentially ‘till I found you. Look.”

“How long did it take you?”

“Two and a half hours. I began at the start of Union Hour.” she finally tore her eyes away from the sky to look at him. “Now, wouldja look, please?”

Exasperated at how nonchalant Vivace was being about this whole thing, he pivoted his head upwards, and froze. There, up at the apex of the partly-clouded sky, there was a shining bright light, clearly brighter than the sun even to the naked eye, but somehow not forcing the pair gazing at it to squint or avert their gaze.

“...How long has it been like this for?”

“Since midnight. And it’ll stay like this ‘till midnight tonight.”

“What is it?”

“The working theory is that it’s Necrozma itself, making sure no one forgets what day it is.”

There was silence as the Vaporeon processed this. “Let’s go see the Preacher.”

 

\----

 

There was joy in the air!

All eight of those the Preacher was expecting had arrived, and were talking amongst themselves. Dusk was telling Frere about his lead on the Tyranitar Mob, Eleanor, Cass, Rachael and Tom were playing cards, Vivace was playing her bari sax for everyone in the corner, and the Preacher was discussing Light Day with Current.

“I just don’t get it.” Current was saying. “This is my twenty-second year in this world. How did I never notice that light before?”

“Arceus’ children work in ways that appear bizarre and unusual to us, child.” he gestured to the Dark-Type in the room, who was still talking with Frere. “Take Dusk, for example. He first saw the light when he was seven. Despite his mother’s insisting to him that it was there beforehand, he simply never saw it, for six years. No one, including myself, truly knows why.”

“How odd. And myself and no one I knew back home ever saw it, or at least admitted to seeing it.”

“Let us continue this discussion in the other room, Current. I have some preparations to make.”

“Draw two, Eleanor.”

Eleanor drew two cards from the pile as instructed, then played a king of hearts. “That bill that was passed a few days ago, Castelia Relief or whatever it was called, has been having some repercussions, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” Cass agreed as she played a king of clubs. “I-I saw some sol-soldiers take someone from their home while I was on-n a walk yesterday.” she still struggled with talking in front of Pokémon she wasn’t comfortable with. “I th-th-think they were ta-a-king him to Vertueux.”

Rachael played a jack of clubs. “To think that the High Council of the GGC would designate a district to send those who couldn’t afford their homes to. And odds would dictate that those sent there shall die there. It’s truly monstrous.”

Tom chimed in as he tried to decide what to play. “There’s nothing quite like watching a bill that will doom hundreds or thousands to Vertueux being passed, having already done everything you legally can to stop it. It’s my least favourite part of being in the GGC.”

“Tom,” Rachael spoke up. “Jack of clubs means you draw five.”

“What!? Five!?”

“Yup.” Eleanor defended. “And playing a two of clubs on it won’t make it seven for the next person instead. You can only add twos onto other twos.”

Reluctantly, Tom drew the five from the deck like the wicked card ordered, then played a three of clubs. “I didn’t even have a two of clubs, anyways…”

With the hot seat rotating back to the Leafeon at the table, she played a three of hearts. “Seriously, though, why are the GGC so uncaring?”

“Y-yeah.” Cass stated weakly. “Their r-ref-fusal to give Vertu-u-eux representation shows th-that they know how ba-ad the situation i-is there.” she played three eights, the first one hearts, the second spades, and the third diamonds. “I...I’m out. I won. A-and I’ll make the suit… spades.”

Rachael sighed at the last word Cass uttered, and drew a card from the deck. Much to her pleasure, it was a seven of spades, and so she played it. “Well done, Cass. The Preacher knows some more advanced card games that I believe you might find entertaining.”

“You know the saying, Rachael. You speak of Giratina…”

An enthusiastic voice rang from a far corner of the room. “Ooh! Oooh! Preachy! Are we doing what we always do on Light Day!? Are we are we are we?” She was jumping up and down again. Vivace really liked holidays.

"Indeed I am, Vivace. Gather ‘round, all, and allow me to tell you the tale I tell every Light Day.”

They all sat around where he now stood, in the centre of the room. Current, who had come back in with the Preacher, turned off the lights, which he found to be an odd tradition for something such as Light Day. He ran over to join them as the Preacher flicked on the flashlight that he and Current had retrieved from his personal quarters.

“Now, then, allow us to begin. This is the tale of how Light Day came to be, as most of us already know. Before we begin, remember that Current has never heard this before. Because of this, I would appreciate it if you all remained respectfully quiet.”

There were some nods and ‘yes sir’s. He smiled. “Excellent. Allow us to begin.


	10. The Spectral Thief

_The Blinding One, the Exalted Star, the Light That Burns The Sky. These are but nicknames given to the shining dragon Necrozma._

_Necrozma was handmade by Arceus itself to illuminate the world. At this, Necrozma excels. Even now, it is said to stand upon the summit of Mount Lanakila, glowing with such amazing radiance. Of course, it no longer illuminates the entirety of the world, as this task has been delegated to its son and daughter, Solgaleo and Lunala. But, once a year, it flies up on its photon wings to the very top of the sky, where it shines for all to see. And this gesture, my dear listeners, dates back many thousands of years._

_Long ago, Necrozma lived similarly to how it does now. It radiated just as excellently as it does now. Its light cured the sick, restored the injured, fed the hungry, and energized the weary. Its son and daughter looked up to it so much, and loved its presence so much. They helped it with tasks assigned to it by the Overlord Arceus almost as much as it helped them when their gleaming wasn’t enough to provide the world with the light it needed. And above all else, they loved it, their parent, and it loved them, its children, back. They were a happy, loving family of three._

_One Pokémon, however, was jealous of Necrozma. It was not jealous of the fame it held and praise it received, as it had no desire for that. It was not jealous of Necrozma’s family, as it had no desire for that, either. It was jealous of Necrozma’s light. You see, this Pokémon, which is called Marshadow, symbolized darkness, everything Necrozma was not. It hated its dark form, and wanted so badly to snatch Necrozma’s light away from it. And, one night, it gave in to temptation and did so._

_Marshadow became a shadow and travelled up Mount Lanakila, unfeeling towards the cold in its immaterial form. It found Necrozma, floating and radiating, giving its light to all, unaware of its presence. Marshadow snatched Necrozma’s light away from it, and fled for its own Black Tower._

_When Necrozma’s daughter, Lunala, sought out Necrozma, she found nothing but a prismatic, black husk that vaguely resembled her parent. With no light within it, Necrozma was suffering greatly. In a desperate attempt to stop the pain, to fill in the empty space inside it, it tried to consume Lunala, its own daughter, seeing her as nothing but light that it could absorb and use to ease its own suffering. It may have succeeded as well, had Solgaleo not happened by and aided its sister._

_When Necrozma returned to its senses, it apologized to its children and told them that a shadow had stolen its light, leaving it in its darkened state. Its children knew it referred to Marshadow, and vowed to give their beloved parent’s light back to it._

_Now, you might be thinking that Marshadow was easy to find, because it had Necrozma’s light, and shone brighter than any Dazzling Gleam. But, alas, that was not the case. Marshadow kept all of Necrozma’s light for itself, and so not a single photon flew out of it to be shared with other Pokémon. Solgaleo and Lunala searched for many years, until finally they came across the Black Tower, which they could sense their parent’s essence coming from within._

_They confronted Marshadow, and told it that Necrozma’s light did not belong to it. It was a being of the dark, and had no need for light. Necrozma was a being of light, and felt pained without its light, and so it was only just that Necrozma keep sharing its light with all, and Marshadow absorb its fair share of photons with the rest of the world. Marshadow refused to give up its prize, however, which it had stored in a crystal known as the Marshadium. It attacked the two beings of light, declaring that Necrozma’s light was now its own._

_And so, the siblings fought Marshadow. Although Marshadow had Necrozma’s light within the crystal to aid it, it was inexperienced with using it, and thus the crystal was rendered useless after a single attack. Despite this, however, Marshadow fought hard and long to hold onto the light it had stolen, but ultimately failed. It fell to the foot of the Black Tower, along with its precious crystal. When the luminous gem hit the forest floor next to it, it shattered, and the light imprisoned within it bled out in rivers, immediately departing to find its rightful owner. Solgaleo and Lunala had succeeded._

_In the days following, Necrozma was restored to its proper, full state, no longer feeling the dark, cold bleeding that came with the lack of light. Marshadow was brought before Arceus, though to us mortals its punishment remains unknown. Necrozma made a point of remembering the very day it had been restored to its rightful form, and the next year, on that very day, it flew up to the very highest point in the sky and shone in all of its excellence, in thanks to the world that it can still provide for to this very day._


	11. Light & Dark

A fire dancing. Painted walls cubing around her, acting as a shield against the cold. A blizzard raging outside, making their view of the exterior nothing but a pretty shade of blue with the receding sunlight. Blankets smushed on the couch, forming a convoluted cloak around her and insulating her body’s warmth. There was no mistaking it. Light Day was drawing to a peaceful close.

And yet, peaceful was not a word she could use to describe herself in that moment. The culprit behind this feeling was the Debutante-trimmed Furfrou sitting on the short end of the L-shaped couch they were on, occasionally firing a quick, disdainful look at her. At the Furfrou’s side was a small brown Eevee, propped up against her mother and corpse-like in her sleep. The Furfrou had positioned herself so as to minimize the amount of the Eevee that she could see, much to her dismay because the little thing was quite adorable, curled up against her mother’s contrastingly white and yellow fur.

The fire crackled. Another scornful look. She understood why this Pokémon disliked her. During the one show of hers she had gone to, she had made a joking remark about the supposed inferiority of the Normal-Type. After the show, she confronted her and told her what a bad Pokémon she was for harbouring such beliefs, then stormed off before giving her a chance to respond. Now, every time they ended up together, it was like this. Silence and stares, uneasy ones from herself, and menacing ones from this Furfrou. Like a cold war, always threatening, but never carrying out the threats. The fire crackled again. This Furfrou was blowing the disagreement out of proportion, however. The Eevee’s ear twitched. How adorable! She had already explained to her that that remark had been a joke and that it wasn’t her honest opinion of the Normal-Type, but she would have none of it. In her eyes, she was nothing but an ignorant, discriminatory skank who had corrupted her son. To think of that, as well! She had overheard the Normal-Type talk to numerous other Pokémon about how her son had become significantly less obedient when he began to spend time with her. It was an outrage, honestly. The fluffy canine was so bigoted that at times she was outright unbearable! At the very least, she was seeing that both of her offspring were turning out alright.

The wind howled. She wondered if Necrozma’s light affected the wind patterns at all. Rachael might know. The Furfrou grunted lightly. She tore her eyes away from the blueness of the Union Hour blizzard outside to look back at her, to see that she had pulled out a book and was now reading it. She was alright with reading, personally. She preferred to spend her time practicing for shows and socializing, but she did read occasionally. Maybe she could use that to try to find some common ground with the bitter canine, to perhaps end the figurative war between the two of them. No, as much as she wanted to believe it, it just wouldn’t work. She had tried being cordial with the Furfrou, to no avail. Clearly the ‘F’ in her species’ name didn’t stand for friendly. She had to hold back a giggle at that thought. If she so much as smirked, her companion in the room would assume the worst and immediately commence her yelling. More howling. It sounded like a Froslass, but lower-pitched. She knew a Froslass, surprisingly. Dawn Stones occurred quite commonly in the badlands around Greyhaven. There were actually quite a few Dawn Stone mines in Bacinite and Moins Focter, two of the southern districts near Vertueux. The other district in that area was Fanzui, but its buildings were too many and its alleys were too small for mines to be feasibly constructed. The Eevee next to her bitter companion sneezed in her sleep. There were theories that the drug lords known to inhabit Fanzui were responsible for the lack of mines, since their construction would destroy the district’s infrastructure. No one’s all bad, apparently. The Furfrou gave her a particularly long-lived scowl. For Arceus’ sake, when was he coming back?

Her prayer was answered as an easygoing yellow-ringed Umbreon returned from the bathroom. "We’re back, ladies!"

"Hi, Dusky." Vivace offered halfheartedly. Normally she would already be figuratively attacking him, but not in the presence of the older Pokémon in the room.

"Hi to you, too, Vivvy." he sat back down in between them, though that wasn’t hard since they were on opposite ends of the couch. There were a few minutes of significantly less tense silence. It was odd how having an ambassador could even pacify someone as bigoted as Dusk’s mother. "Now," he spoke when some time had elapsed, "we should be thinking of ending this day, huh?"

"A reasonable conclusion." the Furfrou pronounced curtly.

"Okee-dokee, then I’ll be goin’ back to my house." she moved to jump down from the couch onto all fours, but was blocked by one of Dusk’s forearms.

"No. Not in that blizzard. You’ll get hypothermia. You were up before Union Hour this morning, too. A tired Vivace is not a hardwearing Vivace." He turned his head to show he was addressing the whole room now, and not just her. "Mum, you and Lucy get the guest room, like always. You sleep in my room, Vivvy, and I’ll sleep down here on the couch."

That was most certainly not fair, at least by the judgement of the Fairy-Type in the room. "But, it’s your bed! It’s your house! You should get to sleep in your own bed on the night of Light Day! I'll sleep down here!"

He raised a paw defiantly. "It was me who asked you to stay a bit longer, and then a bit longer, and then a bit longer. It’s my fault you’re not already in your own bed."

He had a point there. Oh, well. What was the point in arguing any further? Continuing would only encourage Dusk’s mum to intervene, and they most certainly didn’t want that. "Alright. I’ll sleep upstairs." she hesitated before adding "Thank you."

"It’s the least I can do, Vivvy. Now, you want to be heading up so that you get a good night’s sleep."

He said this because she was seemingly cursed to always wake up at morning Union Hour. She giggled a little at the knowing remark, knowing Dusk’s mother would say nothing about it so long as he was there, and made her way up the stairs and a little bit to the left, where Dusk’s own room was located, along with the study. On the right was the guest room and the upstairs bathroom. She gently pushed open the ajar door to the Dark-Type’s plain bedroom. She didn't bother with turning on the lights, since she would be retiring almost immediately. It wasn’t as plain as Current’s, with a single Colosseum poster and a few statuettes of famous battlers, but it was extremely plain in comparison to her pink, white and magenta-themed room, with blankets and plushies and books and BIA posters and old play scripts and a big, fluffy, curtained canopy bed and perfumes and-

But this room would do, she guessed.

She allowed herself to flop onto the ordinary grey and blue-striped bed. Again, not as ordinary as Current’s, but ordinary, nonetheless. In this state, she allowed her thoughts to roam free. It smelled like Dusk in there. No, she didn’t go around memorizing Pokémon’s scents. That was creepy. Okay, she did do that, but for practical purposes. She could probably already identify Current with only her nose. No, she  _ definitely _ could! Wait, what did his room smell like again…?

Ah, heck.

Her thoughts remained on the owner of the house she was in. She didn’t know how she felt about him. Something nagged at her whenever she was with him. For example, she could and would bear-hug anyone (except of course Forte the Machamp), except when she went to do so to Dusk, a part of her shouted ‘no, don’t do it! He’ll see it as weird!’ And somehow, that’s enough to stop her. Every. Single. Time. She had yet to tell the Preacher about it. He was a busy Decidueye. He took the time out of his life to listen to other Pokémon’s problems and to give them counsel and wisdom, and she wasn’t an exception. She thought that this particular thing wasn’t worth his valuable time. It was too petty.

_ But it certainly doesn’t  _ feel _ petty! _

She should take Dusk’s advice and get some sleep. She was teaching an improv class to a bunch of seven year-olds in a few days' time, and she should be well-rested for her first impression on them. She got under the covers and curled up, falling asleep unusually easily in the oddly aromatic bed.


	12. Concussion

Footfalls. She froze. The telephone sat in her claws, silent.

The possible intruders drew closer. She quietly put the device down. Waited. They approached the door.

**_C R E A K_ **

Silence. “Ma’am?”

Okay. She could breathe easy now. Mere subordinates of hers. “Enter.”

In stepped a Feraligatr that she vaguely recognized, and a Manectric that she recognized not-at-all vaguely. The latter held a pouch in his maw, while the former came with nothing.

“Patro. I must have lost track of time. You’re not due for another three hours.”

The Manectric lowered his head and put down the pouch, so as to enable himself to speak. “I decided to come early, ma’am. With a schedule like yours, I thought you could use my share early this week.”

Within the pouch, she saw Greycoins sparkling in the candlelight. She trusted him enough not to count them before dismissing him. Speaking of which. “You are dismissed.”

The blue and yellow quadruped bowed quickly before hastily leaving the room. She now made eye contact with the predatory Water-Type before her. “And why, might I ask, are you interrupting my work at this time?”

“Deepest apologies, ma’am, but I been sent to warn you that one of our ops got busted just before Light Day. If our boys talk, then-”

“And _why_ , exactly, was I not informed of this earlier? You do realize it has now been _two days_ since Light Day, do you not?”

The Feraligatr cringed in fear, instinctually moving away from her to the back of the room. “W-well, ma’am, it was _Light Day_ , that’s supposed to be-”

“Time off?” She finished. “In our line of work, there is no time off. Your own selfish desire for time off could very well have _doomed the entirety of this operation!!!_ ”

Now he was outright cowering in the corner of the room. No matter. His pitiful emotions meant nothing. Now that he knew her anger, she needed information. “What division intercepted it, then? I might still be able to prevent our discovery.”

There were a few seconds of silence before his response came, quivering and shaky as he was. “Number 27, I think…”

 _Crap_ . “Then there was nothing that could have been done in the first place.” She turned away in her chair and let him grovel for a little before giving him his orders. “Return to the big galoot that sent you here and tell him that if he delays _one more_ report, operation, or otherwise in the name of ‘time off’, I’ll personally make sure his whole wing of the operation is shut down.” She quieted again, mostly to see how he reacted. When he didn’t she added firmly “You are dismissed.” Hearing this, the pathetic Water-Type scrambled out without another word.

Turning back away from the door in her chair, she took the telephone from where she had left it on the desk. She was originally going to call some eyes in the streets, but this new information changed things. She dialled a number, held the banana-shaped device to the side of her head, and waited.

“Hello? Khrone? Enough. I don’t have time for formalities. You’re my worker, not my friend. I want you to find out which officers intercepted one of our street operations. No, I don’t want you to kill them. Tail and assess them. I want to be sure they’re not a threat.”

 

\----

 

“Alright, let’s see that section of the textbook again.”

“Current, you really have no obligation to do this.”

“Sure I do. I’ve explored all of Greyhaven, have no orders from my employer as of now, and want to help you. What more do I need to feel obligated?”

“In a word, that is quite solicitous of you.”

“I have no idea what that word means.

“Compassionate, merciful, big-hearted, considera-”

“Was this digression purposeful?”

 _Attentive, too._ Rachael was learning more about Current every day. He expressed a great deal of interest in her Pokémon studies course, particularly helping her to pass it. Thus, he had now appeared in the university’s library, unsolicited, on two occasions, asking to see her textbooks and offering to assist her in any way possible.

“The purposefulness of this digression may or may not be existent.”

The Bubble Jet Pokémon seated next to her raised his eyebrows suspiciously, as if using some mind reader to seek out the truth or falsehood of her words. He then seemed to drop the idea, either deeming it untrue or too insignificant to waste time on.

“Which page was it? 213?”

“231, I believe.”

She watched him reach over to the textbook on the table in front of her and pull it nearer to himself. Whump. Flip. Flip. In a matter of seconds, he was at page 231. She gazed at him with her oversized eyes, watching his expression slowly grow more and more confused. She pondered why that could be. Well, that was one of the perks of being a Psychic-Type. She reached out with her mind, sensing Current’s consciousness before her. It was like opening a door.

 _I have no idea what any of this means._ And there it was. His thoughts. She had once read the mind of a random passerby, shortly after she had mastered the ability. Curiosity killed the Meowth, that’s for sure.

“Do you care to elaborate?”

The Vaporeon’s eyes shot towards her curiously. “Come again?”

“You say you don’t understand. Do you care to elaborate?”

The confusion swelled in his eyes before realization conquered it. “You’re a Psychic-Type. Of course you can do that. I didn’t even notice you were in there.

She smiled, pride filling her. She would show off further by projecting her own thoughts to him, but there was a task at hand. “Now, answer my question. What do you not understand?”

“Ah, well.” He slid the textbook over so that she could see its contents. “This bit right here.”

She read over the paragraph rapidly. “It’s the ratio of second harmonic distortion. Not terribly complicated.”

“I don’t understand those words.”

“Ratio. As in 3:1, or 12:16, which can be simplified to 3:4.”

“Ah, yes, yes. I understand what you mean.” He was looking down at the table now. “Forgive me. Lower Lanakilan isn’t my first language.”

...What did he just say?

“I beg your pardon?” Rachael wasn’t sure if she had heard that right.

“Lower Lanakilan isn’t my first language. I began learning it shortly after leaving my parents’ care, when I was eighteen. I’ve become fluent for the most part, but there’s the occasional word.”

Now that Rachael thought about it, the signs had been there the entire time. Subtle, definitely, but noticeable. “What is your first language, then?”

The next thing Current said was completely foreign to her ears. It was similar to how she imagined an intoxicated Blacephalon would communicate, but faster-paced. “Excuse me?”

He laughed lightly. “I had expected as much. I come from the west coast of the continent, far from Lanakila and Greyhaven. There is no word for the language spoken there in either of the Lanakilan dictionaries.”

“Most interesting. Tell me more.” She had read a little bit about the west coast. The barren island Greyhaven was located on was off of the east coast, so it _was_ far from Greyhaven. Lanakila was only about 500 kilometres north of Greyhaven, across some ocean. The reason for all of the city speaking Lower Lanakilan was due to the fact that the first settlers who founded it were from there. “If I recall correctly, that region is quite mountainous. Also noteworthy, it is on the windward side of the mountains, which is the cause of the high quantity of rainfall. This is the reason behind the high Starmie and Seismitoad population there.”

Current laughed again, but it was a surprised laugh. “You got a surprising amount of that right. Yes, I lived near towering mountains. Yes, it rains a lot. It’s why myself and both my parents all became Vaporeons. There’s a lot of Seismitoad, but not a huge amount of Starmie. They can be found more easily on the islands off of the coast there. There’s a lot of Drifblim, though. They like the mountainside, mostly because they enjoy playing with the Drampa there.”

She felt a small tang of jealousy develop within her. “You certainly must have enjoyed such a place, particularly while still an Eevee.” She wished she could have enjoyed such freedom as an Eevee. Alas, her upbringing had been quite devoid of excitement.

“Don’t give me that. There’s plenty of good things about Greyhaven. Your fine arts, for example.”

Ah. She had forgotten he was attentive. He must have caught the undertone of her words.

“But, regardless, we should continue with the task at hand, should we not?”

“Yes, I believe we should,” she sighed. That was when she saw the time on the clock in the corner. She immediately picked her textbook up with psychic and stood up. “On second thought, no such a thing will be taking place. I must depart for the time being. My father is expecting me home quite soon.”

“Woah, woah, slow down! I heard the words such, depart and expecting.”

Ah. That was a problem Rachael was still working on. “My apologies. I must depart now. My father is expecting that I return home soon.”

“Okay, but promise me that we can pick this back up at a later date.”

She sighed inwardly. She knew he was doing this out of the goodness of his heart, but how much could he really help her? “At a later date, yes.”

Current nodded, and then got up to go observe the bookshelves. Seeing he would be conversing with her no further, Rachael turned and exited the library, beginning the long, harrowing, snow-ridden journey to her house.

 

\----

 

Was her fur smooth? For the most part, yes. Was her scarf on properly? Yes, it was. Had she finally gotten rid of those hiccups? No, but they seemed to be dying down.

Vivace’s mind was whirring with these thoughts as she awaited her students in the very first BIA lesson on improv acting. The room she was in was fairly sized, being about five metres by three metres by two metres. It was ample room for her class’ size, which she had been told was five students.

Patience seemed eternal as thoughts of all shapes and natures continued drifting in and out of her rosy head. What would the children be like? How old would they be? According to the Empoleon Ipsa, all of them were in between five and ten years old. That seemed manageable. They were old enough to know to respect her, but not close enough to her in age to not respect her. Though, age still didn’t answer what they would be like. She was kinda hungry…

A knock. A knock. A knock! Someone was here! “You can come in! It’s unlocked!” Kinda like Current’s door, come to think of it. The knob turned slowly, and the door was pushed open to reveal a little Venipede.

“Hi… is this my class?”

Huh. He was actually quite adorable. She hastily nabbed her clipboard from the floor next to her and checked over it. “Well, I dunno. What’s your name?”

“Eric.”

She found his name towards the bottom and scratched it off with the pencil attached to the clipboard. “Yup! This is your class! It was good of ya to ask, too, ‘cuz there’s another class goin’ on right now!”

“Okay.” The Poison- and Bug-Type barely spoke above a whisper. He crept into the room and laid down in a corner. Not exactly the sociable type, then.

There was another knock, almost as soon as Eric had become comfortable. How many Pokémon were going to assume it was locked? These doors didn’t even _have_ locks! “Come in!”

It swung open at an alarming speed, and already darting into the room was a small Mankey.

“WHAT UP, TEACHER?” he shrieked as Vivace extended a ribbon to close the door behind him. “I’M STEVIE!”

She remembered seeing his name on the list, and quickly re-found it to mark him as present. “Okay! This is your class!”

“YEEEEEEE!” Stevie began doing cartwheels in a counterclockwise direction around the room.

“Woah, there, Stevie! You might want t-”

**_WHAM_ **

…

_Hey… there’re stars in the room…_

Her vision refocused, if only for a few seconds. What had happened? Why was she on the floor? And why was there a Mankey staring at her?

“ARE YOU OKAY, MISS TEACHER LADY!?”

Did he collide with her? It was definitely a possibility. No, it was a likelihood.

“TEACHER! ARE. YOU. OKAY!?”

The kid’s yelling caused a deathly ringing throughout her skull, almost forcing her to unconsciousness. What had Stevie done to her?

The next little bit was a blur to her. She recalled a door being opened, and the cold, slightly stinging touch of steel, thanks to her typing. It felt like a fusion of every headache she had ever had, doubled, and spread across the entirety of her head without diluting the aching.

Was her vision refocusing? Indeed, it was. Where was she? The same room? It looked the same. Wait, wait. She had been in room 19, this looked more like room 14. The carpet was torn in the one corner she was facing. Two years at the BIA helped you learn how to tell the rooms apart, though she seldom had to actually use this skill.

A throb. All this thinking was making her head hurt even more. Wait, it wasn’t her thinking that had done that. Someone had just yelled. Who? Wait, there were other Pokémon in the room? How had she not noticed? Actually, it made sense. She was facing the corner, meaning she couldn’t see them, and in her state, something like a voice could easily blend in with all the other noise, such as the ringing still echoing in her cranium. Unless said voice was raised, of course, which would explain why she hadn’t noticed until now.

“-and don’t give me that ‘we don’t know’ crap! You should be able to tell by the circumstances what happened!”

“Sir, with all due respect, I repeat myself. We don’t know what happened in there. All we do know is that Vivace was lying unconscious in that room when I entered to check on the lesson taking place.”

“BULL.” the first voice exclaimed in unalloyed anger. “Complete. And utter. Bull. If you can’t find the causes of accidents to prevent them from happening again, then maybe you shouldn’t be running this establishment!”

“Are you questioning my abilities?”

“Yes, I am.”

“A’ight, a’ight, dat’s ‘nuff bickerin’,” a third voice intervened. “We’ll know wu hapn’d in dere when Viv wakes up, so ya got nufink t’worry ‘bout, off’cer. An’ it ain’t Ipsa’s job t’run da darn place. Dat’s wu I do.”

“Sir, I am a detective. I exceed the rank of officer.”

“‘Pologies, d’tective. Y’still gotta question we wun answered. Y’ain’t explained why yer here, b’sides t’yell a’ muh public’ty chief ‘bout wunna our best ‘provers.”

Silence prevailed for a few seconds. “Ah, I’m sorry! I came here to ask you a few questions regarding the Tyranitar Mob, but I remembered that Vivace was having her class and all, and got... a tad ahead of myself.”

“I believe that last component was quite apparent.”

“Shuddup, Ipsa. Lettim talk.”

Vivace attempted to turn her head to observe the three, but was met with great pain, causing her to yell in surprise, inadvertently drawing the attention of the others in the room.

“Viv! Viv, is something wrong?”

“Dun’t yell, ya dimwit! It’ll make ‘er worse!”


	13. Assess

Frere, who would normally be quite silent in a situation such as the one at hand, was actually playing a leading role.

The editors of the _Dayspring Courier_ had decided that the recent _Castelia Relief Act_ had gone too far. They were now out to find cold, hard evidence of the GGC’s uncaring, borderline malevolent nature. And they had a perfect way of doing so. They had assembled a team of various professionals, with Frere as the unofficial co-leader, to conduct an inquiry as to the impact the _Castelia Relief Act_ had had on Greyhaven as a whole.

He was now discussing how exactly to go about this with his assembled team of five, including himself.

“First and foremost, we need a hypothesis,” came from Bardo, the Reuniclus demography expert sitting directly to Frere’s right on the circular table. “We can’t just dive into this without saying what we expect the outcome to be. That would rob us of our credibility.”

“Doesn’t it go without saying, though? The _Castelia Relief Act_ has caused nothing but damage across the board. That should be our hypothesis, it’s so blatantly obvious.” Now speaking was a Cinccino by the name of Sosharu, an experienced social worker. “Poverty leads to elevated stress, depression, anxiety, and other psychiatric issues. We should put an emphasis on this.”

The fourth member of the group, a Scizor known as Noimos, put up a claw to show his desire to speak. “I hate to disagree with such noble words, but so as to avoid bias, we cannot use that. The Act has had a positive effect, definitely, but on Castelia and Castelia alone. If we included this in our hypothesis, it would increase our credibility, and that is precisely what we need in order to be truly impactful.”

Sosharu shot him a nasty look. “And why, might I ask, would making the Act look better help us?”

“It wouldn’t make the Act look better,” countered Bardo. “It would show how self-serving it is. Not to mention, to not include it would be to omit data. We cannot do that.”

“I still don’t think we should.”

“Then why don’t we ask the young miss?” Bardo addressed the final member of the team, the co-leader alongside Frere. She was a Lycanroc, her orange pelt and green eyes giving off that she was, in fact, Dusk Form.

She sat in silence for a few seconds. “We listen to the demographer and the philosopher.” Her tone was bored.

Noimos nodded indifferently. “So it is, then.”

Sosharu, whose face was becoming increasingly red, had no plans of giving up, it would seem. “She’s only _co_ -leader! What about the Flareon guy?”

Well, way to drag him into this. He hated to gang up on her, but…

“Sorry, Sosharu, but they’re right. We’re not making them look better, and we have to gather all the important data we can.”

The anger faded from her brown eyes, and defeat manifested in its place. “Fine. It’s not like it matters, anyway.”

Discussion of the hypothesis continued. As this was outside of Frere’s area of profession, he sat back and listened.

 

\----

 

Dusk walked in the evening air, the oatmeal he had had for breakfast still faintly on his breath. He was just entering the Imperium district through its southeastern edge, making his way up to its north side, lost within his own mind all the while.

Ah, his mind. Ever a storm of thoughts. Currently, said storm was dominated by metaphorical clouds that revolved around his undignified outburst from earlier that day. He felt bad for yelling at the Empoleon as he had, and had made a mental note to apologize when he could. Until such a time that he could, however, the guilt remained.

He had yet to figure out why he had gotten so upset. It wasn’t the Empoleon’s fault that Vivace had gotten injured. Though, in hindsight, his voice had contained an undertone that had sounded almost… protective?

Bah, he was overanalyzing things. That was then, this is now. He should be focusing on the impending matter. The incident had just been a testament to how weak he really was.

Now, the impending matter. One of his less favourite places in Greyhaven was his destination. The North Wall. It definitely wasn’t as bad as the East Wall, but he definitely didn’t like it there. And nevertheless, here he went.

Gosh, was it windy today. A Lucario passed by him on the street, and he dipped his head at him before he reciprocated the action. He was pretty sure he recognized the Fighting- and Steel-Type from another division, but couldn’t pin down which.

He turned the next corner and... was at the Wall already? Wow. He had certainly been going faster than he thought. He crossed the street, noticing a Samurott down the street to his left, and entered through the double-doors that led into the structure that separated Greyhaven from the rest of the island.

He now beheld a filthy reception area, and a mostly empty one, at that. The only other Pokémon present was the Grumpig at the front desk, leafing through files in a bored manner.

His eyes shot up to meet Dusk’s as he approached. “May I help you?” His tone was as bored as his expression.

“I’m here to see Chief Clorge, a Drapion. I believe he’s in an interrogation room.”

The Grumpig gave him directions to the room the Chief was in, and he went on his way through the prison complex. The concrete walls around him were cracked in many places, and the few windows were dirtied to the point that having them there in the first place was pointless. The building itself never failed to remind him of the ancient ruins of a civilization that never learned the importance of bathing.

He made a left and arrived at his destination: a heavy, steel, passcode-guarded door. He rapidly typed in 9-8-7-6, and stood back as it lifted.

 

\----

 

Clubs. Should she play her two, or take a risk and play her ace?

Cass decided on the latter of the options as the Preacher taught her a new, more advanced card game; Bugger Bridge, as he called it. Supposedly, it had many other names as well, such as Oh Hell, Screw Your Neighbour, Screw the Dealer, Number Deal, Sausages, and You Bastard. Eleanor was playing, too, but only because the game was tougher for a newbie to get the hang of with only two players.

The Preacher gazed at the card she had played with slight surprise. “You bid one, despite having three aces?”

“Y-yeah…?” Now that she thought about it, that had been a dumb move. Aces are guaranteed to win a trick, unless they’re trumped. Darn, she needed to get her head in the game. She was beating Eleanor, yeah, but that wasn’t saying much, considering the fact that Eleanor had no points. She had twelve, as she had gotten her bid of two tricks in the second round, and the Preacher was somewhere in the forties.

It was hard to focus when she had something else on her mind, though. To be exact, the dream of the evil Ariados. She had had it again the night previous, and it had been dominating her thoughts since that morning. The Ariados still hadn’t seen her, but it had seemed quite curious about the one Eeveelution in the room… Dusk, she believed his name was. The one with the yellow rings.

She was pulled back to reality as she realized that since she had taken that trick, she was to start the next one. Having already taken two, and not wanting to take any more, she brought the three cards closer to her and played her two of clubs. In turn, the Preacher played a three, and Eleanor a seven, winning her sister the hand.

“Ah, shoot.” murmured Eleanor. “There goes my bid.” Eleanor had bid zero, and was taking her first trick of the round. She pulled the cards nearer to her and played a three of hearts, the trump suit. Cass’ highest trump card was a nine, meaning that the Preacher would have to have a ten or higher to beat her and win the trick. He had the two tricks he had bid, however, meaning he didn’t want this trick any more than she did. So, if she played her much lower five of hearts... it would raise the odds of him taking the trick, stopping him from getting any points!

She enthusiastically plunked the red and white card on top of its lower variant, making the Preacher snap his feathers - somehow - as he realized Cass had just set him up to bust.

“Well played, Cass. I see you’re getting the hang of this.” Taking the unwanted trick, he played a jack of spades. Eleanor placed a five, and Cass was forced to play her last non-trump card, a nine of spades. Now she was down to her nine of hearts, meaning she was almost guaranteed this next trick. Not that it mattered, she had already busted. It was just good practice.

The Preacher took the trick once again, and now played… a ten of hearts. Praise Arceus, she wasn’t taking this. Eleanor played a three of diamonds, and Cass played her nine, giving the Preacher the trick once again.

With all their cards played, the Preacher gathered them and began to shuffle. “An excellent hand, Cass. You are learning this just as quickly as Rachael had extrapolated.” Done shuffling, he began to deal six cards out to each of them; last round they had been dealt seven.

Once he was done, he took the top card in the unused pile and flipped it over: an ace of clubs. This made clubs the trump suit. Cass looked down at her own hand: the six of spades, the three of diamonds, the eight of diamonds, the ace of spades, the jack of diamonds, and the king of clubs. Since the ace of clubs had already been flipped over on the unused pile, this guaranteed Cass a trick with the king. So, that brought into question whether or not she could count on her non-trump ace and jack to win tricks. Hopefully, Eleanor’s bid would help to gauge that.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I’ll bid one.” Okay. She would take this into consideration. She also wanted to see if she could screw up the Preacher’s bid, since the sum of the bids couldn’t add up to the number of tricks that turn. He was likely to bid something rational like one or two, so if she went high-risk and bid three, it would stop him from bidding two. It would be risky, but if she played her cards right (pun intended), this would go stupendously for her.

“Three.”

The Preacher’s eyebrows raised. “A three? That’s half the tricks this turn. Are you certain?”

She nodded feebly. She didn’t know why, but his voice had reminded her once again of the Ariados dream. She didn’t know what in the world had inspired her mind to create the monstrosity, but something had.

The Decidueye across the table sighed. “Ah, Cass. I hadn’t been counting on that. I will have no choice but to bid one, then.” He scribbled down their bids on the sheet they were using to keep score.

The Ariados dream entered her mind once again. She didn’t even know why she called it that. The creature in it clearly wasn’t an Ariados. She coughed lightly, and watched as Eleanor played a king of spades. Cass played her ace, beating the king, and the Preacher played a two, winning her the trick, just as planned.

Next, she played her guaranteed trick, the king of clubs. The Preacher, without speaking, played the seven of clubs, and Eleanor played a jack, winning her the trick.

The round continued, and Cass won herself her three, forcing the other two to bust, as well. She had made the Preacher get none, and Eleanor three. After that round, they agreed to stop, since the Preacher would be doing confessions soon, and Cass’ head was almost hurting from the overdose of cards.

After helping the Preacher clean up the cards, Cass came out of the room they had been playing in to see Eleanor on one of the computers the Preacher had available, looking for possible employment. Feeling a tad warm, she resolved to go out into the winter air for a short walk. Of course, to do this, she would need permission.

“Eleanor? Can I g-go out for-r a walk?”

Her sister had turned in her chair to face her as she spoke. A part of Cass believed there was something like sadness in her eyes, but most of her didn’t. “Outside? Yeah, sure. Just don’t stray too far, okay?”

“Okay.” Not that she needed to stray far at all to cool off a little. Armed with her sister’s consent, she went towards the wooden door, creaked it open, and stepped out into the frosty air. Wow, it was sure windy. Taking a deep breath, she began her mission to achieve thermal comfort.

Then, a hand on her shoulder. Motion. Impact. Pain.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty one?”

As Cass recovered from the initial shock, it registered that she was now beholding a Heracross. The Bug- and Fighting-Type was holding her against the wall by the neck, with the claws on his right arm.

“W-wha…?”

“Relax, kid, I won’t be sticking around. Not if you’re good, at least. Understand?”

She nodded pitifully. To her, given the situation, the wisest course of action was to comply with her assailant.

“Good.” His grip loosened a little, allowing her to breathe more easily, although his tone didn’t lose its previous harshness. “Now, tell me about Detective Dusk.”

“Who i-i-is tha-”

**_WHAM_ **

“Do _not_ play stupid with me, kid! We know you’re familiar with him! What has he said!? What does he know!?”

“I-I-I don-n’t know! I’ve only-y met h-him twice!

“Twice…” The Heracross’ eyes were thoughtful. “What did he say?”

“I d-d-don’t rem-member! It w-wasn-n’t about work!”

His grip tightened. “Absolutely nothing? You’re certain?”

“Y-yes!”

He cursed under his breath as he released the Glaceon, who immediately tumbled to the ground in tears.

There she remained, for what seemed like hours. By the time she looked up, Eleanor and the Preacher were there, and the Heracross was nowhere in sight.

 

\----

 

The wonderful, magnificent _joy_ of being bedridden!

Vivace was only sick about as much as the average Fairy-Type. That was, of course, still more than most Pokémon, but it didn’t happen too often. She considered this to be a good thing, because she absolutely _despised_ the sensation that came with being incapable of even getting onto your four paws to take care of yourself.

Her collision with Stevie had had some rather, as she put it, unfun effects. As with any concussion of this severity, she wasn’t supposed to stand again until forty-eight hours had passed. Whoop-dee-doo.

And, to top it off, who, of all of the BIA’s staff, volunteered to stay overnight and look after her?

“Hey, Viv. Ya need anything?

“No thanks, Forte. I’m good.”

That’s right! Forte the stalker Machamp! That nickname wasn’t unfair, either. She had caught him following her in public on numerous occasions.

He flexed in the doorway as he gazed at her. “Okay. If you need me, I’ll be right here.”

“Uh-huh.” Festus had given her an apologetic look as he had left the building that evening. Perhaps he could tell how she felt about Forte. She hadn’t told anyone save the Preacher and Current, but Festus was a lot smarter than he let on. After all, he did run the whole BIA.

“So, I got 1st Trumpet in that orchestra you’re in.”

“Oh, really?” Egad, how committed was he? Couldn’t he just catch on that she wasn’t interested?

“Yup. I’m going to try against a Quagsire for the solo halfway through. He doesn’t look like much.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” That Quagsire was an absolute monster when it came to the trumpet. Forte didn’t stand a chance.

“Yeah, but the cover of the book does at least attempt to tell you what the book’s like. I’ll metaphorically smash this guy and secure that solo. It’ll be lovely."

Unlike you. “Well, I hope you do well!”

He stopped his flexing and began to walk into the room. “You know what else would be lovely, Viv?”

“...Forte.” Her tone was warning.

He laughed. “You don’t know anything, Viv. _Anything_. Not even about yourself.”

“Forte…”

His approach didn’t stop. “C’mon, just-”

He stopped. She stopped. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“One minute.” Forte spoke. “I’m going to find out what that was.”

So, he had heard it, too. The front door had opened. She saw him hurry out of the lit room, into the otherwise dark building. She closed her eyes, so that when he returned, it would seem as though she had fallen asleep.

 

\----

 

The last thing Dusk had expected to see upon entering that room was a Houndoom being slammed muzzle-first against a wall by a Drapion.

It was an interrogation if he had ever seen one. Clorge’s expression was sternly neutral, while Sir’s was filled with poorly suppressed fear. The Dark- and Fire-Type was badly bruised, worse than when Maybelle had fought him. After about three or four more slams, the Poison- and Dark-Type stopped and waited. There was silence.

“Still nothing, huh? How many more times will I have to do this to make your memory clear up?”

Sir spat on the floor spitefully. “Try what you want. I won’t talk.”

“I know what’ll make him.” Dusk intervened as he strolled towards the pair, the door falling shut behind him. “Sir, and by that I mean the Houndoom, of course; have you ever experienced being under the effects of both Confuse Ray _and_ Screech at the same time?”

He looked confused as he slowly and apprehensively shook his head.

“Ah, I thought so. Lemme tell you, it’s not fun. You completely lose your bearings. Some have even claimed to temporarily forget where they were! Oh, and the headache that comes with it! I’m telling you, it’s like nothing you’ve ever had to suffer through! Ringing in your ears type headaches, on _top_ of the screeching already resonating throughout your skull! The only reason this isn’t a more mainstream interrogation method is because of how brutal it is! Not to mention that with how much your guard will be lowered, this guy here will be able to hurt you even-”

“Alright, alright! I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Don’t put me through that, please!”

The Umbreon made a tick sound with his tongue as he pointed an approving paw at him. “Hey, there’s my guy! Thank you for your cooperation. Now, Chief, if you will, please?”

The Poison-Type in the room, quite surprised at this sudden turn of the situation, took a few seconds to start questioning. “Where is your hideout?”

“I don’t know. The boss never lets us runners to his hideout. There’s too much of a risk of us getting caught.” He paused, looking to Clorge to see if he wanted more of him, which he did. “He always meets us at a spot in Brole. I can give you the address…”

Once he told them the address, the Chief threw him onto the floor.

“The others said the same. It must be true.” Clorge noted. “I didn’t have to take the others here, but this one was particularly uncooperative. No point dwelling on it. He brought it upon himself.” A Flygon and Sudowoodo entered to take Sir to the infirmary as Dusk and Clorge exited the room. “Well, now. You heard the address, right? I want you to go there and assess it.”

“Uh, _pardon_ me, sir?

“I’m sorry, did I stutter?” The Drapion asked sarcastically. “You heard me. I want you to go there. _Alone_. With luck, the Tyranitar Mob will assume their gangsters didn’t squeal, and they’ll lower their guard.”

“But why-” come to think of it, there was no point in asking. He wouldn’t get a straight answer. “Very well, sir. I’ll report back as soon as I can.” He made to leave.

“One last thing, Detective.” The Umbreon stopped and turned back around. “That Confuse Ray-Screech strategy. Who have you used it on before?”

Dusk smiled a smile that wasn’t at all happy. “Not on others, that’s for sure.”


	14. Stalk

Vivace managed to doze a little bit before she was shaken awake by Forte.

“Wha… what is it?”

He was leaning over her reclined self in a protective fashion, the way someone would block a child from the pouring rain. His eyes lacked their usual swagger, replaced instead with dead seriousness. “I don’t trust this. Not one bit. I heard the front door open. I  _ heard _ it. You did, too, right?”

“Yeah. But who would want to come in here this late at night?”

He shrugged. “I have no clue. I haven’t found the bastard. But rest assured, I will. Nothing can escape these eyes.”

“Mhm. I bet.” Wow, barely even night and she was tuning out his self-praising antics. With that on top of this possible intruder, she was in for a long night.

Forte stood up straight again. “Anyway, I’m going back out there to find them. They’ll be on their knees begging for mercy the instant I find them.” He left something on her makeshift bed, next to her forepaws. “Here. Festus left us two flashlights. If you see anyone, just holler. I’ll be able to hear you.”

And then, just like that, he was gone. Out into the void. Didn’t even close the door. Behind him he left silence. Like how a parent accidentally leaves their child at the store, so too did he leave behind this frightened, lonely feeling that found its way to her.

She took the flashlight with a ribbon, and flicked it on to make sure it worked. Sure enough, it did. She pointed it at the one doorway in front of her, seeing the now-lit wall on the other side of the hallway, and then aimed it over to her right at the other doorway, seeing the hall there, as well. When she flicked it back off, it vanished, cloaked by a veil of darkness, a nightmarish shroud.

She prayed Forte would come back soon.

She rested her aching head back down on the pillow, facing away from both the doors. She hoped that not seeing the darkness would help ease the palpitations in her chest (never mind the palpitations in her head), but it seemed it would be doing nothing to help it. Simply knowing those rectangular frames were there, letting the blackness seep into her haven of light, was putting her on edge. The obvious solution was to close the doors, to deny the darkness audience, but her state disallowed such a thing. Oh, why couldn’t Dusk come and keep her safe?

Dusk? What was she talking about? Forte. Forte was who she meant. He was the one with her. Not to say having Dusk there wouldn’t be nice. In fact, it would be preferable.

She rolled her head back around to gaze upon the doorway on her right. Seeing it at least meant she knew nothing was coming through. This thought made her lift her head slightly to briefly check the one in front of her as well, to make sure nothing was sneaking in.

She was reminded of a time when she was still an Eevee. Some cruel Glameow from school had convinced her a monster was in her home. Despite her protesting her mother’s departure from her room that night, she had been left (albeit with a kiss) alone in the darkness, with no company save for her six year-old imagination. The shadow of the bedroom that surrounded her had seemed so terrifying, and the threat of death had seemed so real, that she wound up spending the night in her mother’s room.

A noise to her right. Her flashlight shot in that direction with the speed of a Ninjask and flicked on with what seemed like Necrozma’s own light.

…

There was nothing there. It was the same as it had been before.

This definitely reminded her of that night when she was an Eevee.

Flicking the flashlight off, she placed it back down next to her as she heard the same noise again: the heating system in the building turning on. Yes, this was definitely like that night. There was no monster in the building, no creature stalking her, no danger.

...

Wait a minute. There  _ was _ danger. Potentially.

Fear welled up in her all over again. Real fear, not the childlike paranoia that her previous fear had simmered down to.

Her imagination, against her will, began picturing what the intruding Pokémon looked like. She imagined a Poison-Type, perhaps a Scolipede. Those things were huge, after all. Then again, if they were so huge, she could probably hear one if it were skulking around in a building this quiet. So, no, that wasn’t it. Perhaps a Weezing? Those things could float around in virtual silence, spreading noxious fumes in their wake. Though, if it were one of those, she would already be breathing in the fumes, which she knew she wasn’t. Not that, either, then. Hmm…

Her mind landed on Toxicroak. It was small enough that it could enter the building and traverse it quietly, and its poison was incredibly lethal.

Hold on a minute, what was she doing!? Feeding her imagination like that! That was the exact opposite of what she needed! Begone, thought! Begone!

What else should she focus on?

…

Why were oranges called oranges?

Really and truly, why? It made no sense! Orange was a colour, the colour that oranges happened to be. So why weren’t lemons called yellows? And limes greens? And Oran Berries blues? Heh. That would be funny. A musical genre and berry having the same name. Tee-hee! Blues! And Cheri Berries would be reds. Oh! Then she could call Dusk her little red!

Going back to oranges, though. She needed to have a conversation with whoever named them. Or named their colour. Whichever came second. They weren’t even always orange! They were green when they were filled with chlorophyll, and began to turn black when they rotted.

...Black. Like the blackness creeping into her room.

She sneaked a glance. Yup. Still black. Flick. Nothing there. At least from what she could tell.

Flick.

And here she was, back at square one.

Time passed. She could only tell how much by the digital clock on her windowsill displaying its numbers. She peered out the window at one point, observing the street lights and the falling snow and the pedestrians that would occasionally pass by with varying levels of shiftiness about them.

This moment of respite, however, was put to an end by a perceived creak coming from the doorway to her right, making her panickedly flick her light on and point it in the aforementioned direction, to meet nothing but a hallway.

This anxiety gripping her was powerful. And it didn’t seem like it had any intentions of leaving unless banished by an actual Pokémon. Her thoughts went to Dusk again. Why did he have to be on duty tonight? She was willing to bet that if he hadn’t been, he would have come and stayed the night with her like the good Pokémon he was!

An illusion of a noise, followed by another shining of her flashlight.

She flicked her light just in time to witness a distinctly insectoid figure dart away from the doorway.

 

\----

 

_ The abilities of the Grass-Type, though still being studied heavily, are theorized to be the result of a unique phenomenon that takes place within every Grass-Type, and less so in other Pokémon that can learn and use Grass-Type abilities. This characteristic is aptly named the  _ Hive Mind Effect _. When in effect, it allows the Pokémon in question to take advantage of plants’ inability to think for themselves, and manipulate them as though they were additional limbs on their own body. How this takes place still has yet to be discovered, and most scientists have come to the consensus that the scanning technology available as of this age is insufficient to find out. However, what is known is that more powerful Grass-Type Pokémon have very powerful variants of the  _ Hive Mind Effect _ , being able to control whole portions of forests, while weaker Grass-Types and non-Grass-Types who can make use of Grass-Type moves have weaker versions of the  _ Hive Mind Effect _ , allowing them to only manipulate a small amount of plantlife to a very limited extent. _

She should read it again, just to make sure.

_ The abilities of the Grass-Type, though still being studied heavily, are theorized to be the result of a unique phenomenon that takes place within every Grass-Type, and less so in other Pokémon that can learn and use Grass-Type abilities. This characteristic is aptly named the  _ Hive Mind Effect _. When in effect, it allows the Pokémon in question to take advantage of plants’ inability to think for themselves, and manipulate them as though they were additional limbs on the body. How this takes place still has yet to be discovered, and most scientists have come to the consensus that the scanning technology available as of this age is insufficient to find out. However, what is known is that more powerful Grass-Type Pokémon have very powerful variants of the  _ Hive Mind Effect _ , being able to control whole portions of forests, while weaker Grass-Types and non-Grass-Types who can make use of Grass-Type moves have weaker versions of the  _ Hive Mind Effect _ , allowing them to only manipulate a small amount of plantlife to a very limited extent. _

Gah, she had only skimmed over it that time! She couldn’t afford to do that! The exam was ever approaching! She should read it agai- no, she shouldn’t. She knew it well enough. On to the next paragraph, then.

_ So, for example, a Sceptile would have a very powerful  _ Hive Mind Effect _ , while a Greninja would only have one equal to that of a Treecko. _

She hadn’t picked up any of that. What was up with her? She usually absorbed knowledge like a sponge absorbed water!

Knock knock knock knock.

“Enter.”

Her father entered the room. “What in the world are you doing, Rachael?”

“Studying. I must prepare well in advance for my exams.”

She couldn’t see the Manectric with her back to him, but she could tell he had rolled his eyes. “Well, regardless, there’s someone on the phone for you.”

“On the phone?” Curious. She had only ever given their number to one Pokémon, and that was…

“I shall come down immediately.”

Her father nodded and stepped back out of the room, closely followed by her. She turned to her right and trotted hastily along the hall. From there, she could gaze down past the banister to the living room below, where the phone was kept. She hurriedly made her way to the stairs, made her way down, and went to the telephone, still waiting for her by a rather large window.

She picked up the device with her mind and held it to her ear. It clearly wasn’t shaped for an Espeon.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Studying hard?”

Her hypothesis had been confirmed. “Indeed, Current. What prompted you to call?”

“I thought I would make sure you were doing as you had promised you would. That, and I compiled the main points from the textbook into a more brief format.”

Thank Arceus! “Truly?”

“Yeah, though it’s only brief by comparison. It’d be impractical to recite it here.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Where might you be able to deliver it tomorrow?”

“The university library?”

She noticed something. “That suffices, yes.”

His tone changed. “Are you alright? You sounded off there.”

Should she confide in him? The question proposed itself and was forced to resolve itself in less than a second. Yes, she would tell him. She didn’t know why, but she trusted him.

“There is a Lucario on the other side of the street, staring at me.”


	15. Worries

A pitter and patter, and then a great soaring! This time he caught the overhang with his forelegs and managed to get on top of it. With skills like a well-trained assassin, next he got onto the sign above it, and from it managed to jump on top of the snow-covered roof.

_ You did it first try. Good job. _ Now Dusk had easy access to the criminal hideout. Of course, this wasn’t reason to abandon caution, but it certainly made things a lot simpler. With a few more pitters and patters, he was on his way.

And then, all of a sudden, he wasn’t on his way. Why had he stopped? He asked this, despite knowing the answer. Had the Chief really made the right choice, having him go on this mission? Was he capable? Did he have what it takes to do this job, and do it well?

Yes, of course Clorge had made the right choice! He knew better than anyone else on the force! He might not trust himself, but he sure as hell trusted the Chief’s judgement! Besides, he had made a promise to himself. If he did this, if he succeeded in this mission, he would do  _ it _ . The thing he had always wanted to do, but hadn’t realized it until lately.

Reinvigorated, he continued his nimble quest across the rooftops. He was gentle as a Beautifly, fast as a Jolteon, and silent as a particularly calm Whismur.

He passed over a building that he distinctly recalled to be the one in which he had apprehended the serial killer Eruptor. The battle had been tough, but then again, what battle against a Mega Camerupt wasn’t? The Cameruptite was still on display in his office. That had, after all, been his first big accomplishment in the Force.

Back to the present, though. He made sure to keep his stable footing as he leapt to a wall that he then climbed to the next roof. The next roof was lower, so he was able to jump down and not climb at all. The final leap signified his arrival at his destination.

And then, he crouched down near the roof below. They might have rooftop scouts. He should exercise caution.

He snuck over to the edge of the roof, holding his yellow rings back from glowing in the moonlight, and analyzed the alley below. There were two Smeargle standing right below him, playing some sort of card game. To his left, at the end of the alley, was a door guarded by a Pangoro and Granbull. He could probably take one of them down if he caught them alone, but the both of them combined was too much for his abilities. Plus, if he attacked them, the Smeargle would join, as well.

He now looked to his right, where the alley opened up to the street. There, a Kommo-o stood watch. Wait a minute, a Kommo-o!? Wow! So the alert hadn’t been lowered, then. It was drinking deeply from a flask. He dared not question what was in it.

One thing was for certain, now. He was not making any attempts to overpower these Pokémon in battle. That was suicide. He would have to stick to his current tactic: stealth. He looked back to his right to see if there were any windows above the door that he could get through, but it was a plain, brick wall.

Then, there was a great whoosh that went directly past him, nearly making him lose his balance and fall into the alley below, ensuring his demise. Thankfully, he maintained his footing and stayed on the roof without alerting anyone. Relieved that the event hadn’t cost him the mission and potentially his life, he gazed down to see what Pokémon had done this.

And there it was. A Honchkrow, which had just landed neatly behind the Kommo-o. “Is he here yet?” He said, loudly enough that Dusk could just barely hear him. The massive dragon shook its head, much to the bird’s dismay. He then hurriedly whispered something to the Dragon- and Fighting-Type, to which it nodded. If his hypothesis was correct, he had just issued an order to him, meaning he was a Pokémon of authority. And authority meant one thing: information.

He had a target.

The Honchkrow flew over to the other side of the alley, where the two guards stepped aside and allowed him access to the door. Squawking some orders at the guards, he stepped inside. Things were about to get interesting.

Looking back up, his scarlet eyes did a careful scan of the faintly moonlit rooftops around him for any sentries. Finding none, he quietly crept to the other side of the building, hoping there would be some windows he could access. Much to his luck, there were plenty of dark windows for him to open and climb through. Gazing further down, he also made out an unguarded door. That would come in later. He selected the nearest window on the second floor, and scaled his way down to it, one paw at a time.

Now hanging by the window, he spared a paw to grab the pane by its bottom and pull it open. He pulled it halfway up first, then readjusted his position so that he could open it the rest of the way up, providing enough of an opening for him to scamper through into the dark room. He pondered closing it behind him to cover his tracks, but decided not to since he might need a quick escape route in the event of things going awry.

If he had still been over by the front entrance, he would have seen a Lucario hastily coming past the Kommo-o guard.

Glad to be away from the cold, he took in his surroundings. It was pitch black in there, so he would have to wait for his eyes to get used to the darkness. Ah, yes, the room was materializing around him. Wait, were those cells? Weird. What was in the cells? He stepped closer. Oh. Pokémon. Lovely. The operation they had busted was, after all, a Pokémon trafficking one, so this so-called meeting place would only naturally have some of their… cargo within it. He would have to let the rest of the division know that a full-scale sting should be performed afterwards. But for now, he crept to the door that led to the rest of the building.

He peered through the small window in the grey door to the dimly lit hall on the other side. It was barren. They must not have thought that anyone would infiltrate through the back. He slowly and carefully opened the door, giving thanks that it wasn’t very creaky. He looked both ways the way one was encouraged to do when crossing the road, stealthily emerged from the doorway, and darted around a corner to his right. Away from the single light in the corridor, he was once again hidden from sight within the shadows.

Now peering to the end of the hallway on his left, he saw his target. Or, at least, he could extrapolate that it was his target. A significantly more ornate-looking door, with a label on it that read, ‘Piyesis’ Office’. Making sure not to make any sound on the floorboards, he worked his way to it.

Until, suddenly, footsteps came from behind him. Fast ones. Without a second thought, he pinned himself against the wall, hoping against hope that the Pokémon that came through was relatively thin. To his right, a Lucario stepped around the corner, and he breathed a bit easier before remembering that he should hold his breath. They walked past him, oblivious to his presence, and rapped hard on the door.

“Enter.” came a squawky voice. The Fighting- and Steel-Type obeyed, closing the door behind him. He heard some muffled voices. The conversation went on for thirty seconds before the Lucario came right back out, closing the door behind him again and passing him just like before. Exhaling again, the detective could now act. He trotted quietly to the door and knocked.

“Enter.” came the same voice, now slightly annoyed.

He opened it and poked his head in. The Honchkrow from before was sitting at a desk, and gave him a puzzled look.

“And who might you be?”

He smiled, despite himself. You’d be proud too if you had just pulled this off. “Detective Dusk, of Branch 27.”

Shock made itself plain on the leader’s beak, before being replaced with defeat. “So they did squeal after all, huh?”

“Indeed they did.”

“And if I squeal here and now, you’ll kill me?”

He shrugged. “If that’s what it takes to shut you up and get you out of here.”

His to-be captive sighed. “You’ll find most of us value our lives more than this organization. I’m no exception.” He stood up. “I suppose we’re leaving through the back exit?”

Dusk nodded. “I can tell there’s no one downstairs, so we won’t have a problem going through there.”

The Honchkrow came closer. “Then let us make haste. I want to be done with this as soon as possible.”

The captive-captor duo re-entered the hallway and headed to the staircase on its other end. Since the hostage was being rather cooperative, Dusk thought he’d gather some information along the way. “What led to the lack of roof sentries? If you were really on alert, you’d have some. It’s almost routine.”

The Dark- and Flying-Type quickened his pace to keep up with the Umbreon. “A lack of numbers. They have been called off for… something else. Something more important.”

“Will we be discussing this something else at a later date?”

“That would depend on how far you’re willing to go.”

He grinned slightly. “It won’t be me you’re dealing with.”

“Oh?”

“Clorge likes to interrogate prisoners himself.”

He could swear he felt the shivers go down the bird’s spine. The Chief was feared in the criminal underworld more than almost anyone else. He turned to give him a Mean Look to make sure he wasn’t thinking of escaping. Never take a mobster by their word. It had cost a few of his colleagues their lives.

“C’mon. Let’s speed this up.” He urged.

 

\----

 

The books were out of order. That wasn’t a problem. Actually, it was, but not a serious one. He could fix it with ease.

His leafy wing stretched to the nearest book, a tale about pirates titled  _ The Black Flag. _ He put it where it belonged, on the highest shelf, to the left. He organized his books first by decade written, then by length, rounded to the nearest hundred.  _ The Black Flag _ had been made within the last ten years, so it went on the highest shelf, and since it was rather short, it was to the left.

He took the next book.  _ The Far Fetcher. _ Ah, what a good read that one had been! It was a story about a homosexual Farfetch’d and the discrimination and prejudice he faced at the hands of society. Its message of inclusivity and fighting against judgement was truly beautiful. It went in the third shelf, further to the right. It was far longer than  _ The Black Flag. _

The next book he grabbed was  _ Psychic Physics: The Theories of Psychic Manipulation. _ Why again did he have this book? He wasn’t exactly a Pokémon of science. Ah, yes, he recalled why! Rachael had co-authored it! He still vividly remembered how her deep violet eyes had shone when she told him the news.

Rachael was an interesting and intelligent girl, with a good heart to boot. If only her father were more understanding of where her interests truly lay. He had raised her to be an entrepreneur, just like he was. But she had resisted every second of the way through. He often wondered if her mother had had anything to do with that. As much as Rachael hated to admit it, she had looked up to her mother a lot, and her death had been devastating to her and her father alike. She had even evolved to be an Espeon, just like her.

Thinking of Rachael, he couldn’t help but also think of her newfound study partner, Current. He liked the lad, and from what Rachael had told him during her visits, she liked him, too. He had a heart of gold, and a pleasant demeanour. He pitied the Vaporeon for falling into the inescapable trap that was Greyhaven, but he was making the best of it. In that sense, he and Current were quite similar, with the only difference being that Current hadn’t been forewarned of Greyhaven’s true nature.

Speaking of Greyhaven’s true nature, Tom had hit an all-time low. The GGC were overworking him like always, and he was just about ready to cave in and give up. But that wasn’t in the Jolteon’s list of capabilities. No, no. With a little bit of spiritual uplifting from yours truly, he was already monologuing about how he would prove them wrong, and how one day, Greyhaven would be a better place because of him. A younger version of himself would have envied the Electric-Type’s drive. The older version of himself that existed at present merely absorbed the residue and used it for himself.

He realized that the books he was sorting had been put in alphabetical order. Cass’ doing, no doubt. Remember how a younger version of himself would have envied Tom’s drive? Well, even his current self couldn’t help but wish he had that Glaceon’s ability to think, and to analyze, and to plan, and to learn. Seriously, she soaked up knowledge like a sponge, and used it like a Metagross at times. Given some refinement and education, she could easily surpass Rachael. She might even already be fit for university.

Ah, but the amount of stress she caused for her sister, Eleanor. Cass’ weaker physicality made her easy prey for predators of all kinds, as had been proven earlier that very evening. Eleanor was in a terrible mental state, with the combined stress of looking for a job and looking out for her sister. After he and Eleanor had taken care of Cass that evening, the Leafeon had suffered a full-fledged breakdown, tears and all, and the tables had suddenly turned as it was up to him and Cass to comfort Eleanor.

Well, this would hopefully be reduced greatly with the efforts of another Eeveelution he knew and cared about, Dusk. The Umbreon had expressed great worry for the safety of his loved ones during his most recent visit, as he was now officially the first detective in over ten years to successfully catch the Tyranitar Mob in one of their operations, not to mention actually apprehended all of those involved. His worry was not without reason, as the partner he had on that particular mission, officer Maybelle, had already fended off two attempts on her life from the T-Mob’s hitmen. He figured he was next on the list. Or worse, those he held dear to him, like his sister, mother, and best friend Vivace.

Word on the street was that Vivace had suffered a concussion. That was most certainly not good. He wondered how one could suffer such an injury in an acting centre, of all places. His thoughts lingered on the T-Mob, but that wasn’t their style. They would have finished the job. Concussion aside, though, Vivace was having a great deal of trouble, particularly with the stalker Forte and her own inability to stand up for herself. These may seem petty to an external observer, but they certainly don’t feel petty if you’re the recipient. He felt there was more to her problems, but if that was the case, she hadn’t confided in him.

And Frere… his ailments were for a psychiatrist, not for an old nut like yours truly.

He had finished organizing the books.


End file.
